Footsteps Across Lylat: Skewed
by Fatality
Summary: (Sequel to FAL: Fallen) Betrayed by two of their own, Wolf and Leon seek the help of Celestra and Morray to bring the traitors to justice. In the possibility of Andross's resurrection, the line between good and evil becomes impossibly skewed.
1. Default Chapter

Chapter One: "Where Loyalties Lie" 

It was abnormally cold on the cruiser that day, so uncomfortable that it demanded artificial heat. As close as they hovered to the inner atmosphere of Titania they still fell prey to the changing of temperatures, and they supposed Lylat's second planet was nearing its cycle of coldest weather. Granted, Titania's coldest day was considered mild on planets such as Fortuna or Corneria, but out in space everything seemed to fluctuate after awhile. The only good aspect afforded by the cold was an approximation of the time; it had been roughly six months since the fall of Andross.

'Far too long a time to be exiled upon this miserable bucket of rust with the same people,' thought Leon to himself, padding down the primary hall in search of the heating mechanism and hugging himself for added warmth. Natural chameleon physiology told him that it was far too cold for him to stay comfortable for long, for in truth it had roused him from sleep. The rest of the cruiser was quiet, but whether because his other wingmates were still asleep themselves or silently plotting some wicked scheme, he did not know.

Upon reaching the dial which controlled heating and cooling on the cruiser Leon adjusted the temperature to increase ten degrees, and when nothing happened he cursed and banged at it with a fist. Just a few days ago the engine repair warnings had kicked in; a few months ago they could have landed on the planet they were orbiting and fixed it easily, but now the Loyalists were attempting to colonize there and make the planet habitable.

"Nothing on this pile of dung works," Leon muttered darkly to himself, and he threw up his hands in defeat and backtracked for his room. Once there he didn't begin his meditating exercises as normally he would have, instead collapsing on his small bed and flinging an arm over his eyes.

Leon Powalski was by no means physically imposing, matching five feet three inches and making him the smallest of the four Star Wolf mercenaries. He tended to correct this shortcoming by making himself the embodiment of cruel intentions, caring little for anyone in particular and wearing a perfect unreadable mask of cold indifference and nonchalance. An outsider who did not know him would see him as aloof and overconfident, but if he ever seemed the latter it was wrought of chiseled experience, and the former was a perk afforded by having his talents. His eyes shone a glittering onyx, made lustrous with malicious intent; they were eyes that saw everything, no matter how cryptic or confusing, and asked no favors. For all his dark talents at stealth and assassination his age usually remained a mystery, and most days he himself found it hard to believe that he had only just turned eighteen.

Vaguely it dawned on him that he was hungry again, having only eaten once the previous day; ignoring the sensation he rolled over to face the wall, closing his eyes.

Somehow he defied the chill in the air and passed back into a light sleep, and in that sleep he dreamed. Over the months the four of them had spent hovering in space Leon had often contemplated Pigma Dengar's betrayal of James McCloud and Peppy Hare, and now those thoughts pursued him in his dreamlike state.

Nearly fourteen years ago General Aronius Pepper, top figure of the Loyalist regime, had turned to a three-man mercenary squad near the end of the first Lylat War, and to the surprise of all place all faith in them to end the threat that was Andross. They were the best of friends; James had worked as an assassin for Pepper for nearly five years, and Peppy and Pigma were close companions who had attended the prestigious Cornerian Flight Academy.

In the course of their tenure together it was clear that no one of their caliber could be found on the opposing end, something that Andross recognized almost immediately. Preying on Pigma's pride and insatiable greed he offered the swine an offer he could never refuse, ultimate power and reverence on the winning side, with just one condition - that he betray the Loyalists altogether and head the rise of the Venomian Separatists.

As the trio of mercenaries closed in on Andross, Pigma was shot down on the surface of the planet they now orbited, and being the kind-hearted man that he was James ordered the advance to delay until he had retrieved his fallen comrade. Little did he know that Pigma had already made plans to leave them behind once and for all, and in a situation from which there could be no escape.

With Pigma rescued Star Fox pressed onward through every last Venomian defense, coming at last to Andross's very doorstep. When all seemed won Pigma at last played his hand, selling James and Peppy over to the Venomian lord with hardly a thought. But a flaw remained yet in the entire plot, for with untold valor James battled Andross to his last, giving his own life to see Peppy escape.

Leon opened his eyes, wondering if he had dreamed it all or if his imagination was so vivid he could actually see it. Turning to lay flat on his back he gazed up at the ceiling, mulling it all over.

Six months. Six months they had condemned themselves to a cramped and smothered lifestyle aboard a cruiser that was technically a transport ship, therefore life was increasingly miserable in such an enclosed space. Rations were running out; the engines were failing, and all the events of late stretched everyone's patience. Once Wolf had even considered landing to restock their supplies, but Leon, usually the quiet voice of reason, had convinced him not to. Their main problem, he had reminded, was still their treacherous comrade Pigma.

They had thought their colleagues' days of traitorism quite over, for how could Andross lose when he had thrown down the Loyalist rabble for the first time? Unfortunately they had all underestimated the enormity of Celestra's abandon, her willingness to give everything to see Andross fall, and that had cost them the war. After that they had exiled themselves to the cruiser to spare themselves the humiliation of public denouncement and execution, and Pigma's true colors had begun to show. He seemed always caught up in his own inner plots, talking nervously to himself whenever he thought the others weren't near enough to hear, and it seemed perfectly clear that he meant to betray them, if only to save himself.

Time had continued to snail by, though, and Pigma wasn't the patient type; Leon and Wolf both assumed he had merely gotten cold feet and abandoned any ridiculous thoughts of revolt. If he was going to act he would have acted already, Wolf had once told him.

Leon frowned up at the ceiling. As far as he was concerned they should pitch Pigma out into deep space and let his lungs collapse like he deserved. Wolf's reasoning, though, was that if the Loyalists ever discovered them they would need to stick by each other to survive. A shuffling sound reached his ears, and he sat up quickly to discern the source of the noise. Wolf was standing in the doorway, clutching a wrench and wiping his forehead with a rag.

"The heater died earlier this morning," he told his comrade with a scowl. "I've been up for hours trying to fix it."

"Where's Dengar?" Leon asked quickly, pulling on a tank top over his head and absently popping his neck. This question was normally asked before any serious conversation began between the two.

"In the brig, trying to detail the engine status." Motioning for the smaller mercenary to follow Wolf set off down the hall again. "He's unnaturally compliant today; it makes me nervous." As they neared the heating and cooling mechanism he added, "By the way, according to the radar Loyalist numbers have depleted greatly since yesterday; it looks like they're pulling out and going home."

Leon feigned surprise, although he had assumed from the start this would occur. "The colonization is complete already?"

Wolf lowered himself to the floor and slid under the bulky machinery, so that Leon was left only with his lower half, but a muffled reply could be heard. "I doubt it. It's more likely that they decided to keep Titania as a class-R inhospitable planet and left to save some lives, just like you originally figured. If Andross couldn't make an outpost on Titania at the height of his power, there's no way in hell Pepper could ever make it a safe place to live." The pair of them fell silent, brooding, and occasionally Leon passed his mercenary leader an extra tool.

"Have you seen Andrew yet today?" Leon mused, realizing with a start that he had not.

"Sure, I . . . " After a moment Wolf wheeled himself back into plain view, hastily wiping oil from his face. "No that you mention it, I haven't seen him since last night."

Even as it dawned on them that they had been outsmarted, a horrible shudder rocked the transport cruiser and Leon nearly lost his balance. Wolf staggered to his feet, pitching sideways into the wall, and as the shaking lessened they exchanged a knowing, infuriated glance.

"Damn us for being so careless!" Wolf growled low in the back of his throat, throwing the wrench at the wall with all his might.

"We've been had," Leon replied simply, and they sprinted off together for the docking bay.

* * *

"They're going to kill us," Andrew pointed out for perhaps the fifth time, loading what was left of the meager rations into the cargo area of his single-man aircraft. "And when they find out where we've gone, they'll hunt us down until we're dead."

Pigma snarled threateningly; Andrew quickly fell silent. "Why do you think I blew the engines out, you fool? Even if they survive the crash, the Loyalists will apprehend them at once. It's a foolproof getaway; no matter what, they lose."

"DENGAR!" bellowed an enraged voice, and turning the two conspirators saw Wolf and Leon sprinting into the docking bay with livid anger etched into their faces. Andrew yelped and ducked down into his cockpit; Pigma rose, cradling a massive neuron rifle, and took aim. The blast took Wolf in the arm, sending him spiraling to the cold metal floor with a grunt, and he clapped his opposite hand over the wound reflexively.

Dark eyes glittering with malice, Leon sprinted past his kneeling mercenary leader and on ahead with Pigma in his sights. Even though he was weaponless he didn't feel any trepidation; if he could get close enough, he could throttle the swine with his bare hands with no effort at all. Pigma took aim and fired at Leon, a low shot aimed for the chameleon's ankles that was meant only to trip him up; Leon set his left foot firmly behind his right and pivoted the opposite direction, graceful as a ballet dancer, and whirled around in time to sidestep another blast that nearly took him full in the chest. This second blast, missing him completely, blindsided Wolf in the thigh, and growling he raised his head and shouted, "Leon, stop! Let them go!"

Leon was disappearing even as he ran forward, clearly planning to attack their treacherous wingmate from the realm of invisibility. Face contorted in concentration and rage he turned his head and shouted, "Are you mad! They're getting away!"

"Let them! We're unarmed and I can't help you!" Leon turned back to Pigma, nearly impossible to see now as Wolf continued, "We've got to save this ship before it nosedives!" Still the chameleon ignored him, determined to exact revenge before the time had passed, and with a ragged breath the lupine shrieked after him, "LEON! YOU SWORE ALLEGIANCE TO THIS TEAM, AND I AM STILL YOUR SUPERIOR! I ORDER YOU TO STOP!"

With a wince at Wolf's tone Leon glanced back; his mercenary leader was struggling to rise several paces behind, panting for breath, but the look in his single blue eye begged for him to honor the request. With a curse he restored his skin to its natural brilliant green shade, backtracking to Wolf's side with his hands up in a clear sign of surrender and keeping his eyes on Pigma at all times. At this Pigma threw the weapon into the rear of the spacecraft and lowered himself into the cockpit.

"I told you this wasn't over!" exclaimed the swine, and his eyes seemed to laugh at them in a cruel, superior manner. "The days of Andross will be renewed, and you'll regret ever telling me otherwise!" The glass cockpit came down then, snuffing out Pigma's voice, and the twin spacecraft blasted out of the two open hangars and jumped immediately into hyperspace, making it impossible for anyone to track their progress.

"Damn!" shouted Wolf, accepting Leon's hand and climbing unsteadily to his feet. "This is worse than I thought; they want to raise the Seperatists back into power and resurrect Andross." Without waiting for any reply the lupine set off for the control room, and Leon hurried to keep up. "We've got to move fast if we want to stop them!"

I must not have heard you correctly," Leon snapped, running to match Wolf's infuriated stride. "Did you just suggest working against them? If they resurrect Andross and we help them, we'll be in his highest favor."

Turning threateningly Wolf grabbed the chameleon's shoulders, shaking him furiously, and Leon blinked once in mild surprise. "That is exactly what I do not want! Skulking around in shadows, doing his dirty work day-in and day-out, fighting for the losing team and knowing it? Forget it, Leon!" They entered the control room, and sure enough the cruiser was already spiraling out-of-control for Titania's surface. "I'm sick of all of it, and I'm going to do something about it for once! Pigma and Andrew betrayed us and left us to die, right? Do you want to let them get away with that?"

"Not necessarily, no, but I'm not certain that turning our backs on the lifestyle we've known our whole lives is a healthy solution," Leon countered calmly, crossing his arms somewhat defensively.

Wolf sat down in the pilot's chair, buckling himself in as securely as possible and running vitals on the transport ship. "That was my thought at first, but you have to look at it from a certain point of view. Those two didn't hesitate to leave us behind, did they? We were as strong as we have ever been when Andross was still in power and we still wound up the losers, didn't we? What better way to pay them back then by forsaking them altogether and spoiling their plans?"

While belting himself into the chair adjacent his mercenary leader Leon finally understood the proposal. "You want to be a Loyalist!" he accused, aghast.

"No, not necessarily. Pigma is expecting us to die in a crash in no more than five minutes, and while I'm not saying we won't, think of all we could do to repay him his betrayal. We'll follow him, Leon, you and I; think of it! Those two were always a detriment to the team anyway, but you and I together can get through anything! We'll track their every step, hear their every word, and when they think they're one step closer to bringing about some rogue Separatist uprising . . ." Wolf snapped his fingers in finality. "We'll whip them down to their knees like worms."

Leon remained silent, considering all Wolf had offered very carefully. In light of what had just happened he had to admit that he was very reluctant to trust anyone right now, but Wolf had always been a steadfast and clever commander to whom he could relate. Wolf took the delay for an answer as an outright refusal, so he sneered, "Look, I'm ready to give everything to keep Pigma from winning in the end, alright? I'll admit, I'd rather die than see Andross resurrected and placed back in a seat of power, because in all my five years of subservience he treated me like a weapon of destruction instead of a person. I want to live my life, Leon; I don't want to hide and continue to breathe anymore, like I have been for the past half-year." Here he extended a hand to his comrade, who merely stared at it blankly. "You're either with me or against me; what's it going to be?"

Impact warnings flared to life all along the helm, searing at Leon's sensitive ears, but his eyes never left Wolf's face. The lupine was deathly serious, fully prepared for any consequences; his facial expression was one of eerie calm, and Leon knew he was not kidding around at all. So he surrendered to the devious plot, thrusting his hand forward in acceptance, and prepared himself for all the endeavors yet to come.

The transport ship collided with the ivory sands with enough force to knock them both unconscious.

* * *

"Well, we lucked out - it's a minor Fortunan envoy, en route for capital city K'yorin within the hour, but bound for Daxter - a suburb of Titus, capital city of Fortuna - the next day. It's a risky stowaway target, but I think we can manage as long as we stay put and don't get off on Corneria. Daxter should do nicely."

Leon had just melted out of his invisibility and was briefing Wolf on their first order of business. They had considered killing the entire crew and hijacking the envoy for themselves, but they hadn't the time to piece together such a delicate assassination and there was always the matter of how to dispose of the bodies. They were huddled behind an enormous boulder, hot and thirsty but only bearing minimal injuries, waiting for the opportunity to sneak aboard; they had abandoned their ruined cruiser upon waking just to be safe, but even if it was discovered it couldn't be traced back to them without serial numbers or licensing information. Both were unarmed but overlooked that as a detail, for they didn't even assume to fight to gain passage.

Wolf squinted around the rock, craning his neck for a better view. "An ideal docking location. How will I board? Obviously you'll be invisible."

"I'll cause some minor distraction, tip over some boxes or the like in the cargo room. You can board in the confusion." With utmost calm Leon disappeared, and Wolf pulled a hood over his head to hide his features. "Just be ready when it's time."

Wolf studiously watched the envoy for signs of distress, hoping his only companion would have no difficulty executing a diversion. As he perused the exterior of the Fortunan cruiser he was struck with a terrible thrill of foreboding, for the name Ambassador was etched proudly on the side.

Ambassador - the personal cruiser of Sensenic Morray, third-in-command of the entire Loyalist regime!

"Oh, no . . . "

Even as he whispered this the craft's plasma lasers started firing, lancing away across the sands and narrowly missing a makeshift encampment; shouting could be heard from all around, and as shiphands began to disappear within the lupine rose and sprinted toward the entrance. Wending his way quickly yet stealthily through a pair of secondary hallways he reached the cargo area without incident, sinking into a covered position among a mountain of boxes.

"Do you know, I've just had a marvelous idea," came a voice from his left, and Leon materialized back into vision, thoroughly startling his comrade.

"Yes, and so have I!" Wolf whispered harshly. "It's called getting the hell off this ship! This is Morray's ship; if he catches us, it's straight to Pepper, and the gallows!"

"Yes, I realized that. I brushed within inches of him on my way to the helm. Relax, won't you? I'll continue to patrol the halls - invisible, of course - while we make our way to our destination. No one will see you, as long as you keep quiet." Wolf nodded, still unnerved, and Leon continued, "As long as we're getting the perfect revenge, why not seek some additional help?"

"From who?"

"I've got just the person." Leon rubbed his hands together gleefully. "Who hates Dengar as much as we do?"

"Fox McCloud!" Wolf moaned, and he seemed disgusted at the thought.

"A good possibility, but no. Who better to aid us in our revenge than Reivin's murderer and Andross's most hated rival?"

Wolf's eye widened as he instantly shook his head. "I refuse! We spent our entire tenure as mercenaries in an attempt to kill - "

"This is different. Don't you see? Pigma Dengar's head would be a trophy for the Loyalists to wave around, seeing as how he betrayed Fox's father to end the first war. There's no way she could refuse when we say we could hand her Corneria's Traitor."

Now Wolf was grinning slightly, seeing the beauty behind the choice. "What if she attacks us?"

"After hearing our proposition, how could she?" Leon responded simply.

Beneath them they felt the envoy shudder to life, and they knew they had lifted from the ground and started on the way to Corneria. Wolf nodded once to Leon condescendingly, then settled back against a few large boxes to rest.

Who better to help them hunt down and fight Pigma Dengar than Celestra Marquette?


	2. Chapter Two, KWEST

Chapter Two, "KWEST" 

Inner-city K'yorin, the capital city of Corneria, had not been so prosperous since before the first Lylat War nearly twenty years previous. Changes had been made since Andross's fall; reconstruction was well on its way for all of the Loyalist-governed planets, but none flourished so well as Corneria had in the peace that followed the end of the Separatist regime. Class sizes had increased to twice as many students at the Cornerian Flight Academy, where now both Fox McCloud and Falco Lombardi taught advanced Arwing construction and artillery, respectively. Division One of Arspace had received the new line of Arwing from their Fortunan allies only one month before, and technology had never advanced as quickly as it was at the present.

Recently Metgiacon, Corneria's former mass-producing company of weapons technology, had gone bankrupt; in its place stood the new technical empire simply named KWEST. No one could say who was responsible for its remarkable prestige and advancement in society, for no one knew who owned and operated the establishment. In the absence of this information KWEST thrived; never before had anyone seen such unbelievable weapons, Arwing designs, or computer software, and it was rumored that the owners were soon to produce an entirely new model of Arwing themselves. Arspace, too, had already given them leave to do so, a decision that surely shocked the public!

Still, no one knew the masterminds behind the KWEST enterprise, but that hardly seemed to matter. General Pepper himself had already sanctioned its productions, and had even commended the unseen operatives for their unrivaled genius at a press conference. Although Metgiacon had folded because of KWEST's success, the majority of its employess had been invited to join the new technological enterprise shortly after. But who ran this place? Where had they come from?

A lone figure was approaching the single enormous KWEST skyscraper, dressed in high black boots, a long, flowing black cape, and a wide-brimmed black hat that concealed his features completely from any prying eyes. His step was light and graceful as he neared the door, and as the single burly security guard moved to intercept he whisked out a small sheet of paper, emblazoned with the KWEST insignia and a pair of signatures. At the sight of this the guard stepped back, holding the door open respectively, and with a touch of his hat he swept inside.

The walls and floor were wrought of a magnificent polished ivory, outlining a grand series of elevators embedded in the walls, and approaching one of these the visitor stepped inside and studied the control console. Numbered buttons all the way up to the sixty-ninth floor lined the metal casings; above this was a single gold button labeled seventy, and this one he pressed. A square plasma screen melted from the wall, and he pressed his right hand firmly to it for authorization; the screen turned green, and a small tray popped out at him from beneath the console.

"Please insert the document you were given so that we may verify the authenticity of the signatures," requested a mechanized voice, and extracting the form from a breast pocket he inserted it into the tray and waited. Presently the slip was returned to him, along with a reply, "You are cleared to enter the executive office of the leaders of this enterprise. Welcome to KWEST." With that the elevator smoothly jolted upward, and he leaned against the wall to wait.

Once the elevator car had shuddered to a stop at the top of the skyscraper he stepped out into the single narrow hallway and proceeded to the only door at the other end. Unlike every other office this door did not bear name plaques or executive titles, only a golden number seventy at his eye level; with a swift, polite knock he turned the handle and entered.

A baseball-sized water balloon narrowly missed his nose, bursting against the wall to his left and exploding water in all directions. Sitting in twin desks at either side of the room, Slippy Toad and Erik Nioxin snickered in delight.

"You owe me ten bucks," Slippy crowed, holding out one hand with a superior grin on his face.

"Fair enough." Erik extracted a single bill from his wallet, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it across the room; upon catching it Slippy stacked his feet up on his desk in satisfaction. The arctic fox leapt from his seat and bowed low to their guest, saying, "It's about time you showed up, Doctor!"

Sweeping off his black bolero Sensenic Morray returned the bow with an equal display of fanfare; stepping further into the office he studied the crudely-constructed catapult system responsible for hurling the balloon upon his entrance. "You were gambling on my demise?"

"He bet he could nail you with a water balloon when you walked in," Slippy explained with a smile. "I bet against him."

"Most people walk with a bigger stride than he does!" Erik protested, and he sat down with a comical huff; Morray chuckled and hung his hat on the back of the door.

Sensenic Morray headed the fourth division of Arspace on his home planet Fortuna, a title that clearly belied his clever, with, and intelligence. A handsome arctic fox of thirty, he stood straight and confident at five foot ten with a jovial pair of sapphire-hued eyes. Successful, polite, humorous, and devilishly attractive, many women considered him one of the most eligible bachelors in the Lylat System. Then again, most of them were unaware that he had not been single for nearly four months.

Erik gestured to a chair near the window, commanding a spectacular view of K'yorin and letting in the glorious sunlight. "What took you so long, Doctor? We had assumed you would visit us when KWEST became a true enterprise."

"I myself have been spectacularly busy since the beginning of reconstruction," Morray began, seating himself and leaning his head against the sill to bask in the sunlight. "Just two days ago I returned from my tenure as oversee-er of Titania's colonization, and I departed straight away to honor your summons. Before you ask, yes, the attempts to make the planet a liveable place have failed miserably; most of our volunteers were chased off by ghosts and the like."

"No one can blame you for trying," Slippy offered, and exchanging a coy glance with Erik he continued, "But enough about that! We want to hear all about your supposed 'serious relationship'! Give us all the details! Who's the lucky girl?"

"You sound like one of those blasted tabloid reporters," Morray groaned, running a hand down his face. "They've all fixated on my personal life like leeches." Despite his laments a smile curled up his lips; Erik and Slippy howled with laughter, pounding their fists on the desks in satisfaction.

"So there IS someone!" Erik exclaimed enthusiastically, ecstatic that his dear friend and father figure was finally finding happiness. "Who is she?"

"Always shoving video cameras into my face and prodding into my private affairs," Morray continued airily, as though he hadn't heard.

"Come on, Sensenic, don't keep us in the dark!" Slippy danced around his desk and right up to the older Fortunan, dropping to his knees in mock pleading. "We want in on your infamous love life! All we know is what's been printed in the 'K'yorin Columnist' and those sleazy tabloids! Give us the real scoop!"

"Woe is me for being cursed with wickedly good looks and an irresistably charming personality!" cried Morray, flinging an arm over his eyes, and the three of them shared a laugh.

Erik set to tossing an ornate paperweight back and forth in each hand, pressing, "Honestly, Doctor - what's she like? Do we know her?"

Morray didn't answer at first, gazing at the most recent headline of the 'K'yorin Columnist' bearing the bold-faced words: "Wedding Bells Ahead? Bachelorettes everywhere mourn rumors - Arspace mastermind Sensenic Morray to wed!" Hastily his adoptive son moved to hide the newspaper, and Morray heaved a pained sigh. "Well, I can dispel any questions you may have concerning my presumed nuptials, for marriage is the last thing on my mind. But the reporters are somewhat correct, for I am emotionally involved - "

"Give me my ten dollars back!" Erik shouted in sudden victory, and with a soft curse Slippy threw the balled-up bill back to its original owner. "I knew it! Come on, no more games; tell us who she is!"

The two technicians were gazing at him with rapt attention, greatly anticipating his reply, and at last Morray grinned in defeat and said, "Well, we became properly acquainted through Arspace when I returned to reclaim my post as chief technician, although I must admit we knew one another informally prior to the war's end. As time wore on we found ourselves working increasingly closely to one another, and she began to display a slight interest in me. Despite my reputation as an admirable catch among the members of the opposite sex I have had very little dating experience; I foolishly passed an entire two months without acting upon a mutual attraction." Morray scratched his head comically and offered a sheepish grin. "As you can expect she tired of waiting on me, and asked me to dinner; after several dates my life has not been the same."

Slippy snickered to himself; Erik pounded one fist on the desk before him in impatience. "But who IS she!"

"Alright, I've let you linger quite long enough." Rising from his chair Morray turned his back on them, gazing out the window, hands clasped behind his back. "Well, she's a human from one of the northernmost planets in the system, quite a bit younger than me, actually, having only just turned twenty." His tone was a nervous one; Erik and Slippy exchanged a curious glance. "She's got long, dark hair and a pair of eyes anyone would surely remember - a striking pale blue, they are - and commands a sense of honor and courage that even I don't fully understand." Here he turned to face them, eyes fixed on the floor, and he finished quietly, "And if I'm not mistaken, she's only just returned from deep space, where she has been hunting Separatist rogues for the past month under General Pepper's orders."

The lightheartedness in the office faded away at this; Slippy's face paled drastically as Erik swallowed and sputtered, "Just what does she do, exactly?"

"Ah, well, you see . . ." Morray sat down heavily. "She's an assassin."

"Celestra?" shrieked Slippy, tumbling out of his swivel chair in complete shock. "You're dating CELESTRA?"

"Our friend Celestra?" Erik added, eyes wide. "You mean Reivin's killer Celestra? Andross's-most-wanted Celestra?"

"Yes to all five," Morray acknowledged, lacing his fingers together and studying his nails as though not bothered in the least. "I must admit, I hadn't expected you to react quite so negatively; despite a touch of overconfidence and a slightly inflated ego, she is undoubtedly the most remarkable, beautiful, and bewitching woman I have ever met. I had rather hoped you would be happy for me."

Erik was extremely surprised; he was so used to Morray taking sarcatic jabs at everyone that he had forgotten he could hurt the man's feelings. Something in his face let on that he was pained by their reactions; clearing his throat Erik said hastily, "We're totally supportive of you, Doctor! Besides, you're old enough to choose who you date - I don't think you need my approval, of all things." This last was said with a coy wink, wringing a soft laugh from the older Fortunan, and he relaxed in his chair.

Slippy shifted uncomfortably. "You don't think she's a bit weird?"

Morray leaned forward, elbows balanced on his knees, and fixed the young mercenary with a respectful gaze. "I find that my definition of 'weird' tends to differ from nearly everyone else's. Please elaborate."

"Overbearing? Impulsive? Tempermental? Critical? Downright scary?" Slippy rattled away, stopping when Morray's facial expression hardened defensively. "Take your pick - I've got more."

Seeming very thoughtful for a moment Morray scratched one of his eyebrows, ruffling the snowy fur in an amusing fashion, then looked up with a shrug and replied, "No, Slippy, I sure don't. Perhaps you see her as such because you are still in your adolescent years, and you still view women as awkward and unnatural." Leaning back in his chair he clasped his arms behind his head with a smirk and added, "I'll be sure to ask Celestra if she has cooties the next time I see her."

"Shut up. I can fix that catapult to pelt you next time," threatened Slippy peevishly, and Erik and Morray shared a hearty laugh. "Honestly, Sensenic, I'm happy for you. All joking aside, how often do you two see each other? How will this work, you being the top Fortunan diplomat and she being Pepper's top assassin?"

"We settled on that the day I realized our relationship has the potential to become something truly serious. We agreed to carry on our specific duties to the Loyalist reconstruction plans, but we also decided neither of us wished to end things between us. Although we've been apart for a month now we share brief transmissions almost daily to keep in touch." Here Morray sighed and gazed wistfully out the window, saying, "But I must admit it can never compare to the real thing . . . "

"I heard that!" squealed Erik gleefully, sitting straighter with a mischevious glint in his eyes, and it was clear from the look on Morray's face that he hadn't meant for them to hear his last bit. "What does that mean! Just how serious ARE you guys!"

Morray fiddled with a string on his cloak, seeming unnaturally flustered, and the two KWEST executives exchanged triumphant glances. Several times the Arspace mastermind opened and closed his mouth, searching for words; a blush swept up his neck, and at last he told them simply, "I don't see how that's any of your business."

"Aw, come on, Doctor!" Erik cackled. "Give us the goods!"

"I do believe I've divulged quite enough already."

"But we didn't get any of the juicy stuff!" Slippy protested.

"Suddenly I remember why I came in the first place," Morray interrupted, hastily changing the subject. "You requested my audience so that I could critique your new Arwing prototype! Let's go and have a look at it, shall we?" Before they could deter him Morray had bounded to the door, situating the wide-brimmed bolero on his head at a rakish angle and holding the door open for his colleagues. With a sigh of impatience Erik led them out the door and down the hall to the elevators.

Floors ten through thirty were dedicated solely to the construction of spacecraft enhancement and the like, and it was on level twenty-six that they disembarked. As Morray followed closely he was mildly impressed by the interaction between the two owners and their underlings; Slippy and Erik knew everyone by name, and greeted everyone as they passed, and no matter how busy they were the technical workers showed some measure of respect for the pair of them. In the center of the room a dozen men clad in the raiment of KWEST - black vests bearing the company name and insignia enbroidered in pale green - swarmed around a gleaming single-man craft, and the three halted before it. Slippy approached, running his fingers over a small, circular indentation in the left flank; pulling a flat device from his pocket he inserted it into the leveled spot, and with a whirring sound a holographic image materialized.

Morray gasped; there in the air before him was a six-inch tall, computer transmitted image of Keil Ford.

When Morray had known Keil, the man had shown great promise as a chief technician of Arspace Division Three, which operated on the outskirts of a major Zonessian city. He was successful, goal-oriented, and even possessed a reckless streak that commanded a disregard for the rules, often landing him in prison and making him always unpredictable. Near the end of Lylat's second war Keil had become well acquainted with Slippy, seeing in the youngest Star Fox mercenary many of the qualities he himself possessed, and General Pepper had entrusted the two with the all-important task of destroying the shields around an enemy satellite. While attempting to escape Keil had made the ultimate sacrifice, giving his own life to save Slippy.

It was Keil's unsurpassed genius that was largely responsible for KWEST's success, for just before his death he had given Slippy a disk that contained his entire life's work. From that disk Erik and Slippy had built a technological empire, named after them and their lost loved ones, for Erik too had lost his only brother.

"Well hello, Morray old chum!" exclaimed Keil, and the tiny generated figure dipped a small, comical bow. "I'd wondered when we'd see the likes of you 'round here!"

Morray's face was sickly pale; gazing curiously at Keil he asked quietly, "How is this possible!"

"We figure he downloaded some of his more important thoughts and memories onto the disk before he died," Slippy exclaimed, studying the small hologram with mild amusement. "We still don't know how he did it, or even just how much he remembers, but it's something."

Erik gestured to the flat, circular disk implanted into the ship's indentation, saying, "Anyway, he knows more about all of that stuff on the disk than w do, so we created these processing drives into all of th enew prototypes and software demos, complete with the metal scanner you see here. The scanner contains Keil's expertise on everything he ever designed; combined with each individual processing drive we can evaluate our progress and the potential of each new piece in correspondence with how Keil wanted them."

"In essence, I'm the brains behind this outfit, and they get all the credit," finished Keil peevishly, crossing his arms. "I'm just amazed all of you guys thought I would be dense enough to neglect leaving my mark on society!"

Slippy cleared his throat, drawing Keil's attention; the mercenary waved an arm toward the Arwing prototype, and Keil turned to face it.

"Right, well, let me introduce to you the very first line of the KWEST Arwing, which I like to call the Myst Alpha. Unlike its Arwing predecessors that feature one engine each on the rear right and left sides, the Myst series is highly distinguishable by a third engine dead-center. Because of this its speed surpasses even that of the Z-Infinity series." Here Keil offered Morray a sheepish smile. "I apologize for besting the Infinity that you yourself created, Doctor, but you are still my rival."

"I know and respect my rivals, respectable Mr. Ford," Morray acknowledged with a tip of his hat. "Please continue."

"The engine capacity is fifteen percent larger than the Infinity, making it that much faster," Keil went on. "What makes it so much better than any of the previous models is its versatility; the three of us combined the speed of the Fortunan makes, the maneuverability of the Katinan models, and the sheer power of the Cornerian series into a kind of spacecraft that's the best of all worlds. It's the quickest, the easiest to fly, and we've engineered a brand-new laser compound that's undergoing field testing as we speak. Erik?"

The younger Fortunan cleared his throat carefully and continued the description. "Originally we hadn't intended on chemically restoring new laser components, but after hearing Fox McCloud's detailed explanation of the final battle with Andross we decided otherwise. Somehow Andross was able to harness a stronger laser energy than we had at our disposal through psychic signatures and psionic brain-wave patterns, but after several weeks of testing we created a near copy of Fox's description."

Slippy tapped into a remote computer system nearby, summoning a miniature video clip of a trained professional firing off a few blasts of a white-grey laser energy that seemed to have a strange spiral to it. The beams were so bright, onlookers were forced to shield their eyes or shy away from it. "We call them obmion lasers," said the mercenary with satisfaction. "Their predecessors, the adamantite lasers, have the destructive power to obliterate any constructive metal known to Lylat. The obmions have the potential to blow up a star."

Keil grinned, thoroughly pleased with the proceedings; despite himself Morray's jaw gaped a little in awe and admiration. "Has it been tested?"

"Just last week Slippy and I took the obmion compound into deep space and tested it on a few dead stars," Erik continued. "They check out perfectly, leaving not a single atom behind."

"And the Myst Alpha cleared all of its test flights with flying colors," Slippy finished. "All we have left to do is combine the two and complete the tests, and the Myst series with the obmions will be the most unstoppable line of Arwing anyone has ever seen!"

Morray was pacing about the Arwing prototype now, admiring it from every angle with obvoius adoration. "I don't doubt that you have worked very hard these past few months, and it certainly shows in all of your data." Smiling he clapped a hand on each of their shoulders. "With a masterpiece such as this you certainly don't require my approval, but as I am here, go, and with my full blessings. And Keil - " Here Morray bowed long and low before the holographic image. "You have far surpassed my talents - for the moment. I commend you."

Keil gave a little salute, and his form disappeared. Slippy and Erik led the elder Fortunan outside.

"We thank you for coming," said Slippy, shaking Morray's hand warmly. "Your opinion means a lot to us; we're sort of new at this whole genius gig."

Erik embraced his adoptive father, saying, "And try not to let another six months slip by before you visit us again."

Morray held Erik back at arms' length, sizing him up for a moment, and he marveled at how much Erik seemed to have grown in his absence. "I won't. Do be certain to drop me a transmission in a few days' time." He smiled, and with the sun shining down upon him he seemed majestic, some kind of greatness they could not understand. "Now I must return to Fortuna, though - my girlfriend will become somewhat intolerable if I make her wait too long for me." With a slight tap on his bolero and a swish of his cape, Sensenic Morray started away from KWEST.

"Our best to Celestra! Don't let her get away!" came Slippy's cry from behind, and Erik elbowed him playfully in the ribs.

Morray turned and smiled mischeviously over his shoulder, and then he stepped onto his personal cruiser Ambassador and disappeared from view.


	3. Chapter Three, Houseguests

Chapter Three: "Houseguests" 

With a feeling of loss deep in her stomach, Celestra blew out the candles in the center of the dining table and slowly began to clear away the dishes. She had to admit that she didn't cook well, but on her first try at fixing freshwater scalen fish from the Aquan oceans she had truly outdone herself. Now she was forced to throw out a perfectly good meal that Morray enjoyed, and he hadn't even showed up to share it with her.

Thirty days ago they had parted ways, both understanding their roles in the post-war days and more than willing to contribute, but Celestra's heart was not in her work in all the time she spent alone in her Arwing chasing down rogues. She cared a lot about the man, felt content in carrying on with the way things were presently unfolding, and hadn't really wanted to return to her primary profession as an assassin in the first place. When Morray had contacted her four days ago to say that the colonization attempts were finished and that he would be home today she was overjoyed, and decided to make the evening special for them. They had been apart a month, after all!

"He's not coming," she murmured flatly to herself, and abandoning the table settings she slouched into her small bedroom and collapsed against the pillows.

Celestra Marquette hadn't changed much since the end of the war; the only noticeable alteration was the length of her black hair, slightly longer now and far better cared for than it had been in times of trouble. Light blue eyes gazed up at the ceiling from a smooth, creamy-pale face that was both attractive and stern; her body was slender but not malnourished, and a strength seemed to flow from her that others could feel while in her presence.

Momentarily she allowed her mind to wander over the month-long hunt across space, welcoming the distraction as it took her thoughts away from distress. Her inward objective had been to locate the four Star Wolf mercenaries, but since their disappearance from the final battle at Area 6 Defense Station they had not been seen at all. She supposed they had left the galaxy altogether, deeming it too dangerous too remain, and she doubted anyone would ever see them again. Celestra wasn't complaining much; in the month she had been hunting Separatists she had caught and convicted dozens of them before returning to her small apartment in downtown Daxter, an industrous city neighboring Fortuna's busy capital. Briefly she considering shipping out again to get her mind off Morray's absence, but laying there in an overlarge sweatshirt and work-out shorts she decided it would be easier to fall asleep. Crawling under the down comforter over her mattress she signed and closed her eyes.

An hour or so later she rolled over, reaching to switch on a bedside lamp, and blinked herself into a higher state of awareness when she realized that the power in her apartment had failed. Sitting up and kicking off the blankets she glanced all around, wondering why the air was so chill, and it occurred to her that the window was ajar and letting in a brisk mountain cold. Rising she moved to shut it, knowing in her heart that she had never opened it in the first place, and turning she decided to investigate.

The apartment wasn't large, housing only a kitchen, a tiny living room, a single restroom, and her bedroom; moving slowly and carefully she crossed into the restroom and tried the lights, not at all surprised to find they didn't work either. Rolling up the baggy sleeves she made her way into the sitting room, and her suspicions were confirmed; shards of broken glass littered the carpet beneath a double-paned window, symbolizing a break-in, and her weapons were all under her bed.

Stealthily Celestra turned back down the hall and toward her room with a mild feeling of foreboding in the pit of her stomach, but nothing could have prepared her for what was waiting for her around the corner. Entering her room the assassin stopped dead in her tracks, for there, sitting calmly on the edge of the mattress, was Leon Powalski. After two seconds' hesitation she sprinted for the door - and Wolf O'Donnel slammed it shut. Her last move was to dart forward for her utility belt, but Leon held it up out of her reach.

"Hello, Celestra," the chameleon began calmly, tossing the belt nonchalantly across the room to his mercenary leader. "I know this is rather unexpected, but we've come to chat with you - that is, if you'll hear us out."

As she watched Wolf unclasped all of his weapons and threw them out of reach, and with a nod to his comrade Leon did the same. "To gain some measure of trust from you we'll even disarm ourselves. Now we're on even terms - no one has an advantage. What do you say? Ready to talk?"

Celestra stepped to the wall, putting her back to it so neither of them could circle around behind. She was perfectly shocked, not so much by their appearance but by the passive nature of their disarming. The act seemed somehow rehearsed, as though everything up to this point had been planned methodically. Crossing her arms and struggling to sublimate a growing temper she whispered coldly, "You think putting us on even terms makes up for everything you've done? For all the innocent lives you took? You expect me to forgive you for that?"

"Of course not," Leon snapped, and Celestra blinked once in surprise. "We're asking you to listen, because we've got a little story to tell that you'll definitely want to hear. No forgiveness, no favors. Understood?"

"If that's how we're going to play, I'll be asking the questions," Celestra fired back, undaunted. Wolf opened his mouth to protest in vehemence but Leon held up a hand, silencing him; the lupine seemed very disinclined to comply, but at the chameleon's harsh glare he settled down and even crossed his arms indifferently. Leon motioned for the assassin to continue.

"What in the hell could you possibly want with me?" she ordered, fists trembling with rage. "You two should be in a jail cell somewhere on death row, but instead you're breaking into my private home and demanding I listen to you!"

Leon glanced to Wolf, who nodded once before looking away, and he cleared his throat several times as though nervous. "Wolf and I spent six months on a broken-down transport ship, waiting for any opportunity to land and further repair our rust-bucket of a living space. During this time we watched the slow deterioration of the weak bonds that connected our team, beginning and ending with the continuing treacheries of Pigma Dengar." Celestra noticed the flicker of hatred that passed over both their faces before Leon continued. "When our fate became perfectly clear Pigma and Andrew betrayed us, sabotaging the engines and making it impossible to escape a deadly crash-landing - or so he hoped."

It struck Celestra then how mottled and dirty Wolf's fur was, and how Leon's fine chameleon skin seemed more of a sickly olive green than she had ever remembered it. Studying them further she realized that both were scraped and bruised, not mortally wounded but obviously not at the top of their form. As rogues themselves there weren't many places they could go to clean up and dress their wounds; that much of the story added up. But was it mere coincidence?

"As you can see we survived," Leon interrupted her train of thought quietly. "And now, we have some very disconcerting news for you." Even Leon, long considered the most uncaring of the four evil mercenaries, seemed very unnerved. "Pigma and Andrew have left to bring Andross back to life."

Nothing he could have said could have shocked her more; Celestra felt her very insides grow cold at the news, and as inconspicuously as possible she leaned the majority of her weight against the wall behind her for support. Although their faces were obviously distraught and furious something didn't add up; evenly she asked, "Then why would they leave you to die when you're on the same side?"

Wolf clenched his teeth, baring his canines, unable to keep calm any longer. Single eye narrowed to a dangerous slit he said, "Because Pigma knew we would rather die than see Andross back on Venom's throne."

The female assassin's mind reeled under the statement. "And what made you come looking for me?"

"Where else can we go?" Leon whispered, and their eyes met in an intense gaze. "Who else would have even consented to listen to us? Who else would we turn to for help, when a society we previously backed unwaveringly has trapped us in its treacherous wake? What do you suggest, Celestra?" Leon closed his eyes to steady himself before finishing, "You must understand - above all else, we must pay them back for what they've done. Some lines should never be crossed."

Celestra wished she could sit down, for her knees were trembling slightly and seemed unable to hold her up much longer. The entire story was ludicrous; surely they had made it up, a grand deception to lure her into full confidence before killing her. Studying their faces, though, she was forced to contradict herself; she was looking at two perfectly calm men, expressions grim but clearly steadfast and resolute. It was all so unbelievable that it could almost be true.

"Let me get this straight - Pigma wants to raise Andross from the grave, and you guys are here because you want me to help you stop him?"

"As idiotic and suicidal as that undoubtedly sounds, yes," Wolf muttered darkly, and the three of them fell silent for a long, uncomfortable moment.

"Are you out of your minds?" she accused, and they were surprised at the volume of her voice. "You break into my home with some ridiculous story about a possible resurrection and a plot for revenge, and you expect me to drop everything, swallow the past, and help you?" Celestra was shouting, but she didn't care, and they never once moved to stop her. "I . . . I don't believe a word you've said. Coming here at all was the biggest mistake you've ever made." As she finished her eyes darted to a personal G-Diffuser system, and Leon stood up.

"I'm afraid we can't let you call for help. If you don't believe our story there's no way anyone else will, and we can't afford to be caught when we still have Pigma and Andrew to take care of." With a subtle wavering of his fingers Leon motioned for Wolf's attention, and together they advanced a step toward her. "If you refuse to help us we obviously can't let you walk away - who knows how many people you'll tell that you've seen us? We apologize, but it's too dangerous to let you go now that you've heard our story."

Wolf's hand darted out, clamping around her throat and tightening like a vice; she gagged, flailing, but his foot kicked at her knees until she lost her balance. With incredible strength he threw her onto the mattress, and when she struggled to rise Leon was kneeling over her with the cool steel of a knife leveled against her throat.

"You should have listened to us," he told her calmly, and instead of the malicious calm of a killer she saw only a faint trace of regret in his normally unreadable eyes.

The door to her bedroom was kicked open with considerable force, frightening all three of them, and Leon mistakenly dropped the blade to the floor. Steadying his black bolero Sensenic Morray stepped further inside, clutching an ancient Fortunan broadsword firmly in his left hand with a wrathful glare on his otherwise handsome face. Lowering the tip of the weapon in line with Wolf's chest he signaled him to back up, and turning to Leon he said very calmly and clearly, "I think the smart thing to do is step away very slowly, admirable Mr. Powalski. And if you so much as look at a weapon, I'll cut out your eyes."

With no resistance whatsoever the two mercenaries backed away, expressions never faltering from utter calm and resignation. Lowering the sword a little Morray offered Celestra a hand, and when she took it he heaved her to her feet and pushed her behind him toward the door. "Go," he said under his breath. "I'm parked just outside."

"Sensenic - "

"I can handle this, my dear. Quickly, now." With a gentle nudge he shoved her out into the hall, and she ran for the door. Eyes flashing the Fortunan turned on the mercenaries again, and fixing each with a stare of loathing he said, "I have no idea what's just happened here, but so help me, if I ever see you near Celestra again I will strap you to the electric chair and flip the switch myself."

"We came here in good faith, with no intention to harm anyone," Wolf growled menacingly. "Think about that."

"Is that a fact? Well - think about this." Almost casually Morray launched the sword in their direction, grinning to himself when it stuck there, hilt wobbling. "I see you've taken my point well enough. Good day to you both." Without another word the Fortunan swept out of the room.

Outside he found Celestra in the passenger seat of his newest company car, the GX-Garrison, with a look of discontent etched into her beautiful features; frowning heavily Morray slid into the driver's seat and revved the engine, starting away from the apartment complex with squealing tires. The top was pulled back, letting in the sunlight and the whipping wind; steering with his left hand Morray dropped his right upon Celestra's leg comfortingly, saying, "I apologize profusely for my lateness, but I suppose you will find that difficult to accept."

Though his tone was very sincere Celestra did not answer; her focus was distant, confused. Morray accepted her silence with respect and drove on without speaking, but not before glancing in the rear-view mirror once to reassure himself.

* * *

Later that same evening Morray was pouring two glasses of wine in his spacious kitchen, peering around the doorframe to check on Celestra. She was sitting in the middle of an overstuffed couch, hands clasped in her lap, still wearing that same lost and vacant expression that turned his stomach with worry. Sighing to himself he replaced the bottle in a beautiful wine cabinet in one corner, took up the glasses, and moved into the sitting room to join her.

From the inside appearance of the house no one would ever guess Morray was a brilliant commander-in-chief and technician at Arspace; the interior portrayed him more as a wealthy and sophisticated aristocrat. A crystal chandeleir hung from the high ceiling in the foyer, illuminating the pearly-tiled entryway and a maroon-and-emerald rug underfoot. The sitting room was comprised of a six-man sofa with great tasseled pillows and a similarly-overstuffed loveseat, arranged around an ovular crystal table upon which sat several stacked issues of Corneria Tech magazine. A plasma screen television lay embedded in the wall opposite; at the rear of the room hung a stunning hand-painted picture of a small brook running through snow-dusted trees. Through a door to the right lay Morray's bedroom; behind him, a fire crackled merrily in a fireplace in the kitchen. The house wasn't at all far from Daxter; at night the city lights could easily be seen from the sloping hills upon which the house was built. It was a quiet place, far enough from the city that the region could be truly appreciated; Morray's residence was set in the hills of the Fortunan Pass, boasting a magnificent view of the mountain range, and the location was far enough north for aurora to be seen from his back porch nearly every night.

"I wish you would speak to me, my dear," he began quietly, placing her glass before her and sipping absently from his own.

Celestra looked up at him, very suddenly appearing back in her element, and her eyes blazed with displeasure. "Where have you been!" she cried out, shifting on the couch to face him, and Morray cowered. "I never cook, and the one time I do you don't even show! You never once called to say where you were, or when you would be home - "

"I took a slight detour to honor a long-overdue visit to Erik and Slippy," Morray told her softly. "I felt six months was far too long to be without my single adopted son."

Guiltily the assassin eased back into a relaxed posture, taking a small sip of the wine before saying, "I'm still underage, you know."

"I thought of that too, but I don't mind being your lover who doubles as adult supervision." Merrily he reached over and clinked his glass lightly against hers. "Cheers."

It occurred to Celestra that she was seeing Morray face-to-face for the first time in a month; whisking his glass out of his hand and replacing both on the crystal table she leapt upon him, burying her face in his chest, and with a chuckle he embraced her warmly. "I'm sorry I shouted at you - I really did miss you, Sensenic."

"And of course I missed you." She felt him kiss the top of her head briefly. "But I really think we should talk about what happened earlier this evening." Feeling uncomfortable Celestra put some space between them, glowering at him, but his face was mildly stern in his request. "Come now, Celestra - evil mercenaries who disappear for months at a time do not just show up at their arch nemesis's house without killing her straightaway. Wolf said that they came looking for you for a reason, and for your own safety and my peace of mind I should like to know precisely why."

Morray slid an arm around her shoulders comfortingly and she looked up into his eyes; sighing heavily she said quietly, "They came to me for help."

Aside from an almost invisible widening of his eyes Morray showed no outward signs of distress, and Celestra wasn't surprised. He had always proved nearly impossible to catch off his guard, and he was an excellent listener. "Is that what this is all about? Well then - help with what?"

"Pigma and Andrew sabotaged their ship and left them to die in the crash. They want to bring Andross back to life - and Wolf and Leon want to stop them." Celestra's eyes were fixed on the table, unreadable and devoid of all emotion as if she herself did not understand, and she moved closer to him for support.

"They want you to help them?" Morray echoed incredulously, and she had at last broken his cool and collective state. "After everything that's happened in the past several years those two had the audacity to ask you for your help!" Clearing his throat he eased off, seeing that his tone was making her uncomfortable. "Surely you don't believe in this stupidity?"

"I don't know what I think." Sliding away from the arctic fox, Celestra rose and crossed into the kitchen, warming her hands near the roaring fire. Frowning Morray rose and moved to her side, rubbing his hands briskly over her arms to warm her.

"You don't?"

"You weren't there, Sensenic! You didn't see the way they were acting." She covered her face with her hands, trying to make sense of it all, sifting through the conversation in her mind. "They were desparate, like they were already up to their last resort. Only a minute after they broke in they threw all their weapons out of reach - when have we ever known them to do anything like that?"

"Desparate men will do anything to win at times, my dear," Morray carefully reminded.

Celestra snorted derisively. "Wolf said they would rather die than see Andross re-established to full power! That they were prepared to stop Pigma and Andrew at all costs! And the looks in their eyes . . ." Breaking away from his arms again she crossed to the enormous back windows, gazing wonderingly up at the dark silhouettes of the mountain peaks. Wending gracefully around the crowns of the peaks were streaks of aurora, magenta shot with pale pink and deep violet, and she heaved a sigh. "I've never seen that look before, and now I understand why - I'm so used to their lies that this time I didn't recognize the truth."

Shaking his head sadly Morray sighed in resignation. "What if you're wrong? What if this is only a ploy to sabotage you and everything we have all worked so hard for?"

The assassin paused, thinking it over, and looked back at him resolutely. "Imagine what may happen if I pretend they never showed up today. What if Andross does come back, and takes Lylat by force? We're completely unprepared. I have the chance to stop it before it starts this time - how could I ever forgive myself if I didn't take it?"

"Alright - but I'm probably going to get fired, mind you."

Curiously Celestra turned fully to face him; he was turning the bolero over in his hands with a wry smirk on his face. "What?"

Morray laughed. "Come now, Celestra, think carefully. I have been away for a month already - when I go to Arspace tomorrow and ask for more time away to accompany you, they will undoubtedly not be pleased." Celestra opened her mouth to protest, but he raised a hand to silence her and continued, "May I remind you that it is my choice to follow you, and I have a single condition - considering the break-in I hesitate to take you home, so I suggest you remain here, just for tonight."

Celestra cocked and eyebrow and crossed her arms.

"I have a guestroom," Morray added, undaunted. "It's only just down the hall from my room, should you need anything, and I assure you it is very comfortable."

He led her away to the guestroom, pointing out the essentials and even turning down the blankets for her. She marveled at his understanding and how he never once tried to press the matter; he reminded her of a chivalrous knight, humbly providing for his lady. Celestra truly appreciated this more than he knew; in the six months of reconstruction she hadn't seen or heard from Anilora once, but she was still not over him.

* * *

Morray arrived at Arspace Division Four the next morning feeling refreshed but carrying a mild sense of foreboding in his heart. Celestra had still be asleep when he had left the house, entangled in the blankets with dark strands of hair falling over her face comically; he left a note asking her to visit him later in the day. Sitting at his executive desk within the primary technicians' bay he found he had little to do except contemplate the previous days' happenings.

Rising and moving to the window behind his desk Morray looked out onto the grounds, where a hand-picked group of his most talented designers were tinkering with the Arwing prototype of the Z-Infinity Aries. Two days ago, just after he had touched down in Daxter, he had ordered the start of construction on the next fighter craft in the Infinity series, mostly because he knew the KWEST enterprise had bested his genius and he felt compelled to match it. He remembered his excitement upon returning - Morray had always kept himself busy with complicated challenges such as these - but now his interest was already wavering in the wake of Wolf and Leon's appearance. At first Morray thought he was neglecting his work but his disinterest was clearer to him today - Celestra had opened a new option to him, a doorway to unknown adventure, and as he possessed no further knowledge on the subject the mystery kept him at unease. He found himself wondering just what life held for him outside of Arspace, and even though the consequences could be dire he couldn't wait to head off into the gloom and battle for the galaxy.

The buzzer on his intercom went off, rousing him from reverie, and Morray approached his desk and honored the call. "Yes?"

"Excuse me, Doctor Morray; you have a pair of visitors here requesting audience. Shall I send them in?"

"Certainly." Seating himself Morray kicked his boots up on the desk and relaxed back comfortably. The door opened, yielding two figures cloaked all in black with hoods obscuring their faces, and the Fortunan was struck with a feeling of dread, reaching under his desk for a concealed weapon.

A small handheld blaster appeared from beneath one intruders' cloak, barrel aimed for Morray's forehead, and Wolf O'Donnel threw back his hood. "I wouldn't if I were you, Doctor Morray. Let's try to keep this a pleasant conversation, shall we?"

Leon approached and slapped a paper down on Morray's desk, and the arctic fox leaned forward to study it; a full-scale portrait of a spacecraft wreckage donned the first page of the K'yorin Columnist, accompanied by the bold headline: "Separatists On The Move? Venomian Wreckage Crash Site Discovered On Titania!" The article went on to detail the crash, with its serial and licensing information removed and its engines purposely tampered with.

Morray looked up quite calmly, and Wolf lowered his gun. "The article states that no bodies were recovered, and hypothesizes the crash took place not long before my envoy departed for Corneria. However, the article does not disclose the name of my transport ship. For you to escape the same day I disembarked, you would have had to stow away on my personal cruiser." Wolf and Leon exchanged confused glances, and Morray smirked back at them with a feeling of utmost superiority. "If you can give me the name of the cruiser, I will be forced to believe your outlandish tales."

"Ambassador," Leon answered coolly, curling his tail with impatience, and Morray's eyes widened at the correct response. "And the weapons did not fire by themselves - that was me, creating a diversion for Wolf to sneak aboard."

"Very well." Morray eased out of his chair, crossing the room to secure the door and lock it. "I believe you."

"Just like that?" Wolf ogled, re-holstering the weapon somewhere beneath his cloak. "No questions asked? You'll help us?"

"My only condition was that you name my cruiser, and since you have I will most certainly place faith in your claims." Here Morray's face grew cold and stern, an expression they were very unused to seeing. "However, the decision of aiding you rests with Celestra, and I have said already that I will not influence her choice in any way. In the event that she chooses to embark on this suicidal lunacy, though, I have sworn to accompany her."

"What if we don't want your help?" Wolf snarled, and Leon rolled his eyes.

"What if I contact the authorities and have you locked away as you so deserve?" Morray shot back, leaning his elbows on the desk and balancing his chin in his hands. "I said I would believe you, not trust you. Either you allow me to participate, or Celestra will more than likely not be going." The buzzer sounded again, and with an air of annoyance Morray honored it. "Yes?"

"Excuse me, Doctor Morray; Celestra Marquette is here to see you."

"Splendid." Morray cracked the door open, waving the assassin inside, and upon seeing the two mercenaries she leapt within and slammed the door shut behind her.

"What the - ?" she stammered breathlessly, and Morray eased her into a chair.

"These two distinguished men have just proved to me that their tales are believable. We are now discussing a course of action." As a second thought Morray drew the blinds framing the window closed, sealing the four of them in privacy.

"We, as in the four of us?" Celestra prompted.

"You had assumed I woul allow you to embark on this ridiculousness alone?" Morray asked in return.

"Ridiculousness or not, Morray, something has to be done!" Wolf howled, bolting from his chair and pushing up near the Fortunan with hackles on end.

"'Allow'!" Celestra repeated skeptically, also leaving her seat in a fury, and Morray threw up his hands in exasperation.

"All of you need to shut up," Leon interjected smoothly, "lest we be overheard." His three peers hastily quieted, and Morray even pressed his ear to the door to listen for commotion outside. "First of all, Wolf, I remember you and I agreeing on seeking outside assistance, so do stop objecting to an eager volunteer. Secondly, Celestra, I greatly appreciate you considering to help us, for I understand how your opinion could be biased. Finally, Doctor, while your lover undoubtedly finds your overprotectiveness flattering, I find it sickening. Let her make her own decision, and we'll deal with you later."

"'Overprotectiveness'!" Morray repeated with mild fury, and Leon snickered.

"This isn't getting us anywhere," Celestra began, striding to the center of the room with an impatient huff. "If this is going to work, we'll have to start respecting each other."

"This is ridiculous! The entire idea is asinine." Wolf leapt from his chair and set to pacing the length of the executive office, running a hand down his face. "I realize you had our best interests at heart, Leon, and perhaps your idea was a good one, but you neglected one major detail - " He waved an arm in Celestra and Morray's direction accusingly. "We've spent years of our lives hating these two people - how do you suggest we just throw that all away?"

"I, for one, would find it difficult entrusting you with a goldfish," Morray muttered to himself, and overhearing the lupine cursed at him.

"That's enough!" Celestra shrieked, whirling away and clutching her head in her hands. "Stop this now! This is going to be hard for all of us, but if all comes down to - "

" - Trusting each other," she and Leon finished together, and falling silent they exchanged a mildly surprised look.

"Whether or not you choose to trust us, it all comes down to this," Leon stated quietly, and he was slouched into his chair with a defeated, far-off look in his eyes. "We are faced with the possibility of Andross returning to life, something we have all agreed we do not want. My mentality in coming here was that we all share a common enemy, and that the moment you learned of Pigma's plan you would be prepared to do anything to stop him." Here Leon rose, casting the hood over his face again, and he and Wolf moved for the door. "I guess I was wrong."

"Wait." Celestra placed a hand on the chameleon's shoulder, and he bristled but turned to face her. She seemed torn between what was rational and what was right, and the indecision showed clearly on her face. Rubbing her eyes and sighing in defeat she asked quietly, "What are we going to do?"

The amazement that she was agreeing to help them only showed on Leon's face for a split second, then the traditional indifferent mask had smoothly replaced it. "Pigma isn't fool enough to try this on his own - he'll start rooting out old allies that the Loyalists couldn't catch in the war aftermath. Chances are if we find them, we'll find him."

Celestra set her hands on her hips. "Where do we start?"

"That's a good question." Leon looked over at Wolf, who merely shrugged his shoulders. "All of the mass hiding places were more than likely flushed out weeks ago. The ones that escaped being caught will be very well hidden; it'll take us weeks to find them, if we find them at all."

The three of them looked as one to Morray, who was sitting glumly at his desk and glowering up at them with deep distaste. Wolf squared his jaw and said, "It's not as though you'll be helping us; you don't hunt down and kill people for a living."

"He's right, you know," Leon added. "You'll only be slowing us down."

"I beg to differ," Morray snapped, and he folded his arms defensively across his chest. "Look around you, respectable Mr. Powalski, and you will clearly see where my talents lie. I built Arspace Division Four from the ground to perfection, and I daresay I have more intelligence than the three of you combined." He paused and tipped his hat to Celestra. "No offense meant."

"None taken," she assured, and she turned back to the two mercenaries. "Sensenic has a point; weapons, computer tracking programs, personal spacecraft - anything we need, he can get us."

"And, contrary to popular belief, I am not completely without a sense of battle prowess," Morray added quickly. "Besides, what I don't know can be taught to me."

Wolf and Leon exchanged a long and intense stare, wordlessly conveying private thoughts, and at last the mercenary leader sighed in defeat. "Alright, alright, fine. Let's get started."

Celestra and Morray nodded assent.


	4. Chapter Four, Pitted Against

Chapter Four, "Pitted Against . . . " 

The last time Captain Gilraen Anilora had been to Corneria, it had been at General Pepper's invitation and only for the purpose of attending the public hearing of an especially prestigious Venomian lieutenant. Although he continued to travel with armed escort on hand he felt secure wandering about on his own, even stopping at a newsstand to purchase the latest edition of the K'yorin Columnist.

News that an outdated Venomian transport ship had crashed on Titania, yielding no one on board and failing to trace an owner, had swept throughout the system with an open note of panic. If those on board had died there would have been bodies - so where were the survivors? It was in light of this suspicious occurrance that Anilora supposed he had been summoned to the Cornerian Military Base, the headquarters of the General of all the Free Peoples of Lylat.

It was a beautiful day, typical of the Cornerian weather patterns for mid-October, and as Anilora strolled down the busy K'yorin avenue his violet eyes shimmered pleasantly. A fine mop of brown-blonde hair shot with unnatural streaks of silver had grown a bit longer, now passing in front of his brilliant eyes so that every so often he was forced to brush it away. Visibly he had changed; during the war stress had deprived him of sleep and good eating habits, but now he seemed healthier and happier, and truthfully he had gained back a well-needed ten pounds. His step was carefree, far more at ease than it had been in years, and at the turn of his twenty-fourth year things had at last returned to a state of blessed normalcy.

Often he thought of Celestra and of what she was doing, and although he knew where to find her he didn't dare go looking for her. In times of peace Celestra tended to be rather hermit-like, holing herself away in any one of several secret bases only a select few of her closest confidantes knew the locations of. Anilora didn't have the transmission frequencies to reach her at any of them, and he believed Bill was the only one who did. He supposed she was still away somewhere in space hunting those Separatists that remained in exile, but he suspected it wouldn't be long before she caught up with them.

Every single tabloid he passed had something to say about Sensenic Morray's supposed marriage, and although he wondered vaguely who the Fortunan's lover was he knew it to be a ridiculous theory and merely smiled.

Two military veterans were waiting for him just outside the military base gates, and upon reaching them Anilora waved off his unseen envoy; several dark figures turned and melted back into the shadows of nearby buildings and set off down the avenue. The first veteran took a step forward to shake Anilora's hand.

"Greetings, Captain," he began, and the second veteran bowed and came up in a salute. "If you'll follow me; the General is waiting."

Anilora allowed the veteran to lead him up the exterior staircase and into the base, eyeing the young man curiously. "I beg your pardon - I don't think I know you. What's your name?"

The soldier leading the way was a human, making him quite rare; most of the human race came from Katina, and during the first Lylat War nearly all of them had been wiped out. His hair was jet black, long and straight as it gently brushed his shoulders when he walked, and a pair of equally dark eyes settled on the captain in a friendly manner at the question. He was extraordinarily slight of build, barely topping five feet with a lithe torso and arms that spoke of little physical activity. "Merrick Di'mant at your service, Captain, and a pleasure to at last meet you in person."

Though he spoke in a likewise friendly fashion his voice was low and somehow monotonous; Anilora didn't like this man already, though he wasn't sure why. "Odd - the name doesn't ring a bell. Where did you serve?"

"I was born on Zoness, where I served from my sixteenth year to my nineteenth," Merrick replied conversationally. "After that I was transferred to Daxter on Fortuna, where I served under Commander-In-Chief Morray for another six years. After the war the general promoted me to a veteran status, and now I serve here in K'yorin as head of the general's elite security."

"An exceptionally faithful career to the republic," the Katinan captain observed, and Merrick beamed with pride. Just then they arrived at General Pepper's office, and the veteran bowed him inside.

An interesting and surprising conflagration awaited Anilora as he shut the door behind him. A grey figure rushed at him, knocking the wind from his chest, and when the captain had regained his bearings he was more than happy to hug Bill Grey just as enthusiastically. Bill had spent two months in pursuit of Separatist rogues, and while Anilora had been increasingly busy he had dearly missed his close friend. Releasing him Anilora shook hands with Star Fox mercenary leader Fox McCloud; seated at the windowsill he shared a wave with Falco Lombardi, also a mercenary and renowned as the team's ace pilot. General pepper rose from his seat and grasped Anilora's hand warmly.

"Did you have a safe journey?" asked Pepper, and Anilora smiled in reply.

"The guard you sent were more than enough for the trip," he assured. "And thank you."

Pepper re-seated himself, motioning for his four guests to gather around, and he cleared his throat to speak. "The government is becoming anxious; the wreck site on Titania is worrying all of my superiors, who have reason to believe that Star Wolf was on board that transport ship the day it crashed."

"What reason?" asked Bill with a frown. "It coulda been anybody; don't the govs know that?"

"I made it quite clear, but their main concern is that four powerful enemies of the Loyalist republic are still on the loose." Pepper seemed highly displeased. "Regardless, I have been ordered to take no chances. From this point forward we must assume that Star Wolf is at large and preparing to strike against us."

"And you want us to take care of them," Fox stated more than asked, and the general nodded his agreement.

"Infinitely more easy than the last thing you asked us to do, which was fight a war," Falco inserted, and he and his mercenary leader shared a snicker. "It's not like these guys can walk around wherever they want, whenever they want. What do we know so far? Any leads?"

"I think I've got one," Anilora piped in. "The day the crash occurred was the day the primary colonization party fell back from Titania. Only one cruiser was used to leave - the personal cruiser Ambassador, owned and operated by the man chosen to head the colonization efforts, Sensenic Morray. It's likely he was completely unaware of their presence; the envoy landed briefly here in K'yorin, then returned to Fortuna's capital city Titus, where it docked at Arspace Division Four."

The room was quiet for several moments as the theory was mulled over, and then Bill added, "They're smart enough to figure out that the envoy would go the extra day and a half to Titus; I'd just about bet that they snuck off there and dove into the first hold they could find."

"Hold up," Falco said with a defiant snap of his fingers. "Doesn't Celestra have a supply base somewhere in Titus?"

"An apartment, actually," Anilora corrected quietly, and a blush flooded his cheeks as they studied him curiously. "On the outskirts of Daxter, not so far from Arspace."

Fox leaned forward, catching on. "It's possible she's been in touch with Morray over the past few weeks, maybe even before she entered deep space to chase rogues." He turned to Pepper in conclusion. "They might have a new lead on these guys. They could help us bring Star Wolf in."

"Precisely," Pepper congratulated. "Celestra may even be on their trail already. Unraveling riddles is a specialty of hers."

"What if Star Wolf fell in with some old friends of theirs?" asked Bill. "Could make things a bit difficult in the long run."

"I don't know about that," Falco countered, glancing away frow the window for a moment. "Just how many guys did you catch in two months? Forty? Fifty?"

"Seventy, more like," Bill corrected stiffly.

"Now add that to however many Celestra caught in a month or so of space travel," Falco continued, and he screwed up his beak as he hypothesized a number. "That's a hundred Separatists at the least bagged between the two of you, if not more. If Wolf and his crew were hoping to score some allies they waited too long to look for them, because most of them are rotting in prison by now."

Anilora nodded his agreement. "Most of the well-known Separatists have been in prison for weeks; Falco could be right. Any assistance they may find shouldn't be anything the four of us can't handle."

"Speaking of which, I did specify that I wanted the entire Star Fox team," Pepper interrupted, and Fox winced. "Where are Peppy and Slippy?"

"Peppy retired from active flight duty a few weeks ago," admitted the vulpine. "He's returned to Arspace and is overseeing the tests of KWEST's new proposed obmion compound laser. And Slippy . . . well . . . he's been missing since the war ended."

That statement rewarded him with everyone's attention; Pepper, Anilora, and Bill stared incredulously at Fox as Falco snickered in mild amusement. "What do you mean, missing!" the general exclaimed.

"That's just it, sir," Fox offered obediently. "No one knows where he is. The last time Falco and I saw him was when he was packing to leave the Great Fox; since then he hasn't contacted us."

"Odd," Anilora commented. "Under a normal circumstance I would say that there are very few places a fifteen-year-old could go unnoticed in this galaxy, but we all know how intelligent Slippy is and he is far from ordinary."

"Then I suppose as long as there are no objections, you two could join Fox and Falco as mercenaries," Pepper said slowly, eyeing Bill and Anilora as he said this. "I'll leave someone trustworthy in your staid, Gilraen, and I'm certain that the governmental body will agree to one special circumstance, seeing as how Star Wolf is involved."

The assassin and the captain exchanged a glance, then nodded in assent.

"The disappearance of Slippy can't be helped at the moment, unfortunately," Pepper continued, expression more than a little confused. "Has Peppy been in touch? The executives at KWEST are pushing most insistently for authorization of the obmion laser compound, but I am waiting for one I trust to certify it before I pass the word to them."

"The obmions were tested at Arspace a few days ago," Falco inserted. "Everybody who watched the demonstration had nothing but good things to say, Peppy included."

"I'm curious," Bill put in delicately, and the room fell silent. "Does anybody actually know who owns and operates KWEST?"

Pepper and Anilora glanced at one another guiltily. "Actually, no," the Katinan captain admitted softly. "The information we have suggests that there are two owners, and although we are both acquainted with men who work there, it seems all of the technological enterprise operates under a strong vow of silence. They refuse to divulge the identities of the two executives, but I have been assured numerous times that they are both brilliant and honorable men, and very loyal to the republic. So far we have no reason to distrust them - the new line of Myst Arwing is the most advanced model to date - but we're as much in the dark as the rest of the city."

"Doesn't it bother ya that these guys are conductin' business behind yer backs?" Bill asked.

Anilora smiled to placate his friend. "They have been nothing but loyal and helpful since KWEST began operating; if they prefer to work under identity secrecy, that is their choice."

"In any event, we will be searching for Star Wolf without Peppy or Slippy," the general concluded, bringing the talk back to their primary objective. "We have assurances from KWEST that the first four Myst Alphas to pass through testing with the obmions installed will be set aside for your usage. When that occurs, the search can begin in full."

"What do we do until then?" asked Fox.

"I think our smartest course of action is to depart for Daxter as soon as we can," Anilora offered. "If Celestra is already on the trail of the Star Wolf mercenaries she will need our help eventually."

"As for Morray, we should drop in on him at Arspace to see if he knows anything we don't," added Fox. "Even if he doesn't, we can still get him up to speed, keep Division Four prepared, and enlist his help." As he said this the four mercenaries rose, taking it in turns to shake hands with the general.

"The KWEST executies estimate another week before the Myst Alphas are prepped and ready for combat," Pepper informed them. "Take the Great Fox, and when the new Arwings are ready I will contact you. Hopefully Celestra and even Sensenic will have joined you by that time."

Anilora led them out into the sunny streets, setting off for the distant Milano Air Base where the mercenaries' personal cruiser had been docked for the past half year. Behind the captain the mercenaries noticed a carefree and almost giddy spring to his step, and they looked curiously at Bill, who offered only a negligent shrug.

It was only a two day flight to Daxter, the primary neighbor to Fortunan capital Titus. Not so long a time to wait to see Celestra Marquette, the love of Anilora's life.

* * *

Merrick Di'mant snuck cautiously down the stone steps, making his way stealthily into the lower levels of the enemy base and glancing frequently over his shoulder to be certain he wasn't being followed. The basement was seldom used anymore, other than in times of crisis, and now that the war was over most things had been cleared out and moved back onto the ground floor. In the state of vacancy dust stirred with every step he took; cobwebs draped from the ceiling, and when he slipped quietly into a storage closet a familiar sneering voice accosted him.

"Did you hear it?"

"Every word." As Merrick closed the door Pigma and Andrew melted out of the shadows. "Pepper has assigned a new mercenary team to locate you and your teammates, led by Captain Anilora." At this revelation Pigma and Andrew hissed in loathing and hatred, and Merrick snickered at their childishness. "Bill, Fox, and Falco have already signed on to help him - the hare has finally retired and the kid has turned up missing."

"That's not really good news, you know," Pigma griped, running a hand down his face and scowling deeply to himself. "Anilora and Grey are a lot tougher than those other two ever were, and now they're all looking for us."

Andrew swallowed hard; Merrick burst into laughter and had to lean against the nearest dirty wall in his hysterics. "Oh no, they're not. The captain had a stroke of brilliance and gave Pepper a lead - on Wolf and Leon's location in Daxter."

Pigma snickered in victory. "Everything is working out perfectly, Merrick! Wolf and Leon have absolutely nowhere to run now that they're caught between them and us! No matter who finds them first they wind up dead!"

Merrick remembered the brief discussion concerning Celestra and Morray, and could see a possible wrench being thrown into their plans. It was very unlikely that the female assassin would believe the truth if Wolf and Leon even found the courage to confront her, but if by some unseen design she believed them, their alliance could ruin everything he had worked so hard for. He ran a hand through his long black hair and toyed with the idea of telling Pigma all he knew, but thought better of it and stayed silent. The more he kept from Pigma's knowledge, the better.

"Yes, so far everything is falling into place nicely," he said instead, pacing the room as they watched. "More rogues are filtering into top priority positions every day, and I'm in touch with every single one of them. We're ready to welcome you back into the fold since your betrayal of Wolf and Leon, but as the instigator of the uprising I can't let either of you get actively involved. You'll be staying quiet and laying low as long as I'm in charge, and let me take care of your other two old mercenary friends, understand?"

Neither of them seemed thrilled at having Merrick in complete control, but Pigma nodded in dismissal and asked, "Just how many guys of ours are inside the system so far?"

"At least fifty by now, but the number grows every week," said Merrick. "When Wolf and Leon have been impounded and executed and we've got a large enough group to make a difference, we'll take care of the Loyalists and bring Andross back to full power and glory."

That thought seemed to relax Pigma quite a bit; nodding he motioned for Merrick to leave, resigning himself to the long and lonely waiting brought on by exile.

Soon. Soon the Loyalists would be done celebrating.

Soon Andross would bring devastation back to Lylat.

Soon.


	5. Chapter Five, Flight

Chapter Five, "Flight" 

Dawn broke over Daxter, bringing with it a tinge of chill off the mountaintops and down into the valley in which Morray's house was nestled. Wolf was snoring on the couch, waking Leon perhaps an hour before sunrise, and he was reading an old issue of Corneria Tech as a sleepy-eyed Morray brewed coffee for the pair of them. The arctic fox's keen blue eyes studied the chameleon every so often as he bustled about the kitchen, for surely it felt unnatural to be serving an evil mercenary! Never once did Leon look up to challenge the curious glances, contenting himself with perusing the pages with mild interest, and when Morray placed a steaming mug in front of him Leon took it up and sipped casually despite its heat.

The door opened and slammed with such force that Wolf snorted himself awake, and Leon smiled into his coffee. Celestra stalked in, pale blue cape swirling wrathfully about her ankles, boots echoing so loudly to reflect her foul mood that Morray winced a bit. Even as Wolf stumbled to the bar and took a stood beside Leon she slapped the morning edition of the Daxter Herald onto the counter before them.

Leon studied the assassin inconspicuously from over the top of his mug; her eyes seemed quite troubled indeed. Clearing his throat Morray took up the paper and stated the headline, "The Search For Star Wolf Renewed". A large picture split into four smaller panels showed Captain Anilora, Bill Grey, Fox McCloud, and Falco Lombardi, and Morray flashed the picture for the mercenaries to see.

Wolf's face paled, and he glanced to Leon; the younger mercenary merely shrugged and said, "Read on, Doctor."

Sighing, Morray smoothed a stray wrinkle out of the pages and cleared hit throat to read.

K'YORIN, CORNERIA - _Today marks the first day of General Aronius Pepper's campaign to bring the four mercenaries of Star Wolf to justice. With reconstruction drawing to a close Pepper has chosen to dispatch a task force to search out the Venomian ship wreckage in the Titanian deserts._

_"Too much is at stake for us to take any such coincidences lightly," said Pepper. "For now we shall run off the assumption that a more dangerous foe is on the loose, and now we turn our efforts to finding Star Wolf."_

_Standing beside Pepper in this endeavor is none other than Katinan captain Gilraen Anilora, who just recently returned from overseeing the remodeling of Katina's capital city, Nexxus._

_"It is very possible that Star Wolf is still out and about in the galaxy," said Anilora. "Until such time as we have apprehended them, the General and I have assembled a special group of trusted friends to help with this task."_

_Among that group is Katinan assassin Bill Grey, who tracked Separatist rogues for two months before returning at Pepper's command. Abandoning their teaching posts at the Cornerian Flight Academy, Fox McCloud and Falco Lombardi hae also sworn to join in the hunt._

_"With the retirement of Peppy from the squad and Slippy's disappearance, we needed a few good men to join us in looking for Wolf and company," said McCloud. "Bill and Gilraen are two of the toughest guys I know; we'll get the job done."_

_The only envoy available to Star Wolf on the day of their escape was the Fortunan cruiser of Arspace mastermind of Commander-In-Chief Sensenic Morray. The ship returned to K'yorin for a brief re-supplying before shipping off for Daxter, and it is rumored that this is where the new Star Fox unit will begin their search. Anilora has already informed the general that he hopes to locate assassin Celestra Marquette, and possibly even Morray, to enlist them in the campaign._

With a disconcerted expression on his face Morray glanced up at Celestra; she was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest defensively and looking flustered. Leon and Wolf, he noticed, seemed particularly nervous.

"They're coming to our doorstep," she told them fearfully, and she set to chewing on her bottom lip.

Morray discarded the paper and crossed to her side, placing his hands on her shoulders. "We shall have to leave, and quickly, or we run the risk of respectable Mr. Anilora and the rest of your friends discovering our houseguests."

"We can't fly Ambassador; it's all over the press."

"Yes, I am aware of that." Morray ran a hand down his face and crossed to the back window, folding his hands behind his back as he gazed out. "I will think of something. How quickly can you be ready?"

Celestra gave her belt a quick once-over. "Most of my essentials are already here, and I have my weapons on me. I can go as I am."

"Splendid." Morray strode to his bedroom, where they heard him shout, "I can be ready in five minutes."

"Excuse me," Wolf interjected, regaining his composure and idly combing out his tousled fur with his fingers. "What in all hell are you two going on about?"

"Star Fox is looking for the four of us," Celestra explained hurriedly, and she set to dropping dishes in the sink absently. "They probably left after their meeting with Pepper, which was yesterday; they could be here in a matter of hours. We have to leave the planet."

"'We'?" said Leon. "You're going?"

"Why wouldn't we? We said we'd help you." Celestra snatched the mug from the chameleon's hands and replaced the magazine on the stack in the sitting room.

"But if you go with us now, you do understand that you'll be combating your own society and your friends," Wolf pointed out coolly, now seeming very taken aback. "If they catch us, they catch you. Do you know what that means? What it'll look like?"

"Espionage," Leon answered for her, calmly cleaning the kitchen and washing the dishes as Celestra studied him. "Treason. Once they find you guilty of that, there is no going back."

Celestra paused in her tidying of Morray's kitchen and fixed the two mercenaries with an accusatory gaze, setting her hands on her hips in an almost comical fashion. "Just how far do you two expect to get without Sensenic and me? You're wanted in every city on seven planets, and it wouldn't surprise me if the rest of the rogues had it in for you because you deserted. Face it, boys; you're backed into a corner. You won't even make it out of Daxter if you carry on like this."

"We appreciate your optimism," Wolf said, rolling his eyes sarcastically. "Thanks for harboring fugitives and all, but we'll be easier to spot the more of us there are. Besides, exactly how many places can you take us without expecting someone to recognize us?"

At this point Morray re-entered the kitchen, a small duffel bag slung over his left shoulder and a set of keys in his opposite hand. Upon hearing Wolf's last comment he said absently, "You can leave the living situation to me, I think, and focus your efforts on staying alive."

Leon and Celestra subsequently looked up from drying and putting away the coffee settings. "How can you already have a plan?" the assassin marveled, and despite her skeptism she was obviously impressed.

"Tact, my dear, and a never-ending need to meddle in affairs in which I do not belong," answered Morray with a sly wink, and as they rolled their eyes he proudly situated the wide-brimmed black bolero at its familiar rakish angle on his head. "I can secure a safe departure for the four of us from Arspace; although I prefer to travel about in Ambassador, I own at least five more cruisers. Have we all got our possessions? Are you certain? Very well - follow me, if you please."

Following Morray they trooped outside, where the GX-Garrison was parked in a perfect line with the front walk. After securing the top over the sportscar for a bit of added privacy the two mercenaries slid into the backseat, checking and re-checking the availability of their weapons as Morray started the engine.

"You still haven't told us where we're going," Celestra prompted as they pulled out into the mostly deserted highway that led into the heart of Daxter. "Are we leaving the planet?"

"Yes we are, and a wise decision to do so," he responded elusively, and as he glanced in the rear-view mirror he noticed the feverish looks on Leon and Wolf's faces as they eyed their weapons. "May I also make it quite clear that opening fire on my colleagues at Arspace will make me somewhat disinclined to help you further."

Celestra's eyes had narrowed by then. "Sensenic, where are you taking us?"

"Ah, we'll be quite safe and more well off than you would expect," said Morray, but he seemed extremely nervous.

The continued lack of a straight answer was getting on Celestra's nerves; Leon looked up and said, "I think you should answer the lady, Doctor, before all of us lose our nerve and she her temper."

"Regrettably I cannot tell you now," he informed them matter-of-factly, and as he guided the car around a corner Daxter was laid out in full before them. "It is something of a powerful wild card of mind, one I was forced to swear on pain of death to keep secret, so let us please not speak of this again until we are safely on our way."

Wolf snorted derisively, thinking Morray was only making excuses, but Leon wasn't so sure. For all of his oddities and masquerading as a witty gentlemam Morray knew far more than he let on to most people, a quality the younger mercenary was quickly coming to admire and would certainly not underestimate. Most people Leon had been incahoots with during his tenure as one of Andross's mercenaries flaunted every piece of information they could get, hoping it would give them the advantage in any situation that didn't favor them, and it was Morray's deceptively quiet nature and refusal to reveal all he knew that had made him a major player in the second Lylat War.

And precisely why Leon rather liked having him as an ally.

They drove the rest of the way to Arspace Division Four in silence, driving around to the back of the complex and parking just outside the docking bay. Ambassador was waiting for them in the first hangar, but Morray led them past without even looking at it; after marching past a few envoys and transport ships they came to a halt near the sixth hangar. Morray swept out an arm to indicate the small cruiser. "I present to you Paradox, the smallest personal cruiser I own. To remain as inconspicuous as possible I suggest we take nothing larger than this, and after arriving at our destination we would do well not to fly often if we can so avoid it."

Stepping up to one of the ships' flanks Morray entered a six-digit verification code and led his three comrades aboard. There were only three rooms, a single restroom and the control room where the craft could be piloted; below hospitable quarters there were three smaller hangars where automobiles could be parked for the interspace journey. While Morray exited to bring his sportscar aboard and Wolf scouted out the rooms to ensure there was no one else around, Celestra and Leon ran scans on Paradox to check its status.

"Fully operational," Celestra commented, booting the cruisers' engines to life and raising a hangar for Morray and the Garrison. "We've got enough fuel to make it to either Corneria or Katina, but if he wants to get us any further we'll have to land somewhere with low security to refuel."

Leon leaned over Celestra and placed one slender finger to one small corner of the screen, bringing into larger perspective the trio of miniature docking bays in the underside of the cruiser. "Look at this. There appears to be something below already."

"It's a motorcycle." Magnifying the screen with a touch of her hand Celestra studied the strange find. "This particular model is mass-produced at Arspace Division Two in Katina's capital city, Nexxus. It's only a year old at most, decent acceleration, adamantite lasers built into either side of the console."

"Not so bad for a quick getaway," Leon hypothesized, and just then Morray entered the control room.

"We've been cleared for lift-off," Morray assured, shrugging off his cape in the pilot's chair, and taking up the controls. "I made certain that only my secretary knew I was leaving the planet; she's a delightful woman, really, and I doubt very much she will betray my comings and goings to anyone." With a slight lurch Paradox rumbled out of its hangar, taxiing down a short runway before lifting off the ground and blasting off into deep space. The pair watched as he typed a few autopiloting commands into the helm, and then Morray turned nervously to face them.

"So reveal to us your grand scheme, Doctor," came Wolf's dramatic voice from the doorframe, where he was leaning with his arms crossed. "Or, rather, shock us with your next heinous, ridiculous, and undoubtedly dangerous theory."

Morray turned fully to face the one-eyed lupine, and where normally there was only an innocent and quiet mischief in his eyes now there shone a glint of warning. "Take care, respectable Mr. O'Donnel, to remember that your continued health depends a great deal on my success in sneaking us about. While I have no doubts that you and your esteemed comrade are highly self-sufficient, little option remains open to you when both Loyalist and Separatist have qualms with you moving about. One alert is all it will take for your bad luck to begin, until you realize you cannot run forever. So start accepting the fact that you need me to survive, and we will get along far better."

Leon glanced over at Celestra, who merely shrugged and acknowledged Morray's logic. "He's right - I can fight every battle with you, but even assassins tire sometime. As Commander-In-Chief and third-in-command in the Loyalist republic, Sensenic has contacts that will be invaluable for you in the future."

Smiling, Morray dropped a hand upon Celestra's shoulder in thanks. "Now, if you please, I will delve into my fabulous plot, with a promise from all three of you that what I am about to say will never be repeated to anyone. If it is, I will be forced to start ripping out fingernails, or something as uncouth as that. Understood?"

Faces grim yet curious, Celestra, Wolf, and Leon nodded assent. The arctic fox cleared his throat.

"We are bound for K'yorin, the capital and busiest city on Corneria." Celestra gasped audibly and the mercenaries looked up in horror, but Morray raised a hand to calm them. "I know the army base is there, and Division One of Arspace, and Aronius Pepper, general and biggest Separatist hater of them all. But so too is KWEST, Lylat's newest and most successful technological enterprise in all the history of such industries."

"They're elitist and reclusive," Celestra warned. "Not the sort of people we want to fall in with, given our precarious situation, and no one even knows who the executives - "

The female assassin stopped herself abruptly, staring at her lover, and her eyes grew wide with realization.

"You know them?" she breathed incredulously. "You know who owns and operates KWEST?"

"I do," Morray admitted, turning the bolero over in his hands as he paced the control room. "And I am the only man outside of a few trusted employees who does. Certainly the only man roaming the galaxy, for the others are bound by the walls and a code of secrecy to remain and keep their silence. Of course, it is difficult for me to not know, being on a personal level with both of them for several years now."

"Then who?" Leon asked, obviously intrigued.

Morray stopped his pacing, and his eyes fell upon Celestra.

"You have heard of Slippy's unexplainable disappearance?" he began cryptically.

Puzzled, the assassin merely nodded.

"And I made it clear to you, the day you and I left Corneria for Daxter after the war, that my dear adopted son Erik was to remain behind in K'yorin?"

All at once his three attentive listeners gasped in utter disbelief.

"Erik and Slippy!" Celestra shrieked, leaping from her seat and clutching her head with surprise. "I don't believe this! Right under everyone's noses all this time, and still no one knew!"

"But that damn Toad is just a kid!" Wolf exclaimed.

"But he's been a genius from the cradle onward," Leon reminded. "While Slippy and Erik are both highly intelligent, however, it seems unlikely that they raised KWEST from the ground up in six months with their intellect alone. Some outside influence must have been involved."

Morray nodded, remembering vividly the holographic computer-generated image of Keil Ford explaining the Myst Alpha Arwing the day he had gone to visit. "Yes, but that is a tale better left to those who can better explain it. For now I have told you all I have promised, but I assure you all your questions will be answered the moment we arrive in KWEST."

They all seemed reluctant to let the subject pass, but without any further comment Morray slipped past Wolf and down the hall. With a negligent shrug Leon started off after him, turning a corner and making for his and Wolf's private quarters, and soon they heard the shower start running. Leaving Wolf to his own devices Celestra set off for her own room, only then realizing how exhausted she was from the days' events.

Sleep did not come to the female assassin, even though she lay still for an hour at least, and the ship was silent when she rose and padded down the hall to Morray's room. His door was closed and it was quiet inside, but she pushed it open and peered inside to find him quite awake and gazing thoughtfully at the ceiling. When he noticed her standing in the doorway he motioned her inside with a small smile, and upon closing the door behind her the tiny living space descended back into near-darkness.

"Do you realize what we've done?" he asked softly as Celestra sat on the mattress near him.

"You shouldn't have come," she scolded gently, and he didn't miss her pained sigh.

Reaching out Morray pulled her down next to him, cradling her in his arms; with another sigh she laid her head on his chest, and he briefly kissed her forehead. "How could I ever forgive myself, or expect you to forgive me, if I had let you go alone? What sort of a person would you think me, given the nature of our relationship? Nothing you could have said would have made me stay behind, for I must admit - I care far more about you than I have ever let on, despite all my jokes and subtleties."

There was no hint of sarcasm in his voice, as she had grown accustomed to; Celestra raised her head questioningly to find him staring evenly at her. Although there was little light in the room she was captivated by the deep sapphire hue of his eyes; the sincerity was apparent in his tone, and placing a gentle hand upon the side of her face Morray leaned in and kissed her.

It was the first time in the past chaotic week that they had found any time alone, and they spent it laying quietly in the safety of the dark and one another's arms. After only five minutes they were already sleeping contentedly, breathing even and peaceful.

* * *

"They're leading us into a trap," Wolf said, emerging from the shower and rubbing his damp fur with a towel. 

Sitting cross-legged in the center of the room, Leon roused himself from a silent meditating exercise and breathed deeply in mental conclusion. Blinking curiously up at his mercenary leader he asked, "And how did you arrive at that conclusion?"

Shaking his head briskly the lupine secured his eyepatch over the empty left socket and glanced around for an undershirt. "Don't you find it a little too convenient that Morray is the only man who knows the KWEST executives?"

"No; I think it's extremely fortunate. Who are we to question good luck? It's the best thing that's happened to us since our crash in the desert."

"You don't find the situation suspicious at all?" Wolf pressed skeptically.

The chameleon stretched out flat on the floor with a sigh, affording a good view of the intricate body tattooing of his anterior body. A ruby-red rose bloomed centered around his naval, thorned tendrils looping around his sides and disappearing behind his back in another unseen design. Curving black lines spiraled across his chest in a celtic tribal design; Wolf took it all in for perhaps the millionth time, appreciating the detail and the softly blending colors.

"Not particularly, no. We're lucky to have fallen in with such powerful allies who trust us; the more contact Morray has, the better. And regardless of who our enemies may be, we can't lose with Celestra. If she really killed Reivin Frost as they say, few in this galaxy could match her skill now."

Rummaging about under the single bed in the corner of the room Wolf found his undershirt and wrestled into it, emerging to fix Leon with a look of disbelief. "Who do you think killed him? One of those idiots at Star Fox?"

"I don't know if he's dead at all." Wolf ogled at the smaller man, who ignored his incredulous stare and rose, crossing to the single tiny window harbored within their room and gazing out at a distant, marble-sized Corneria. "Since we've been in Morray's house I've had access to a computer; I've checked every newspaper article and tabloid I could find, and not a single one said anything about Reivin. No body was ever recovered, and his death was never even mentioned. For all we know he survived and fled Lylat while we were hiding out; the tale of Celestra killing him may be an elaborate conspiracy cooked up by the Loyalists to keep the populace at ease." Leon turned from the window with a dismissive shrug. "Who can say? There's no proof to support either theory."

"Running away was never Reivin's style," Wolf pointed out.

"Running away was never our style," Leon countered immediately. "We spent six months on a dead cruiser waiting to be discovered or die of starvation; men's morals change when backed into a corner."

The former mercenary commander opened his mouth to argue but found nothing to say. He was used to losing arguments with his younger comrade; Leon placed great stock in logic, one of many qualities that made him such a useful ally. His ability to study and understand all ends to a situation often forced Wolf to contradict his own beliefs and glimpse the wider picture, something he considered bothersome yet necessary. Already he was wondering if Reivin was truly dead, and if he still lived, where had he gone? An unsettling thought struck the lupine then, and he turned back to Leon and asked, "What if Pigma and Andrew fell in with Reivin? That's not exactly a fight I'm wanting to be a part of."

Leon offered a wry smile and was shaking his head even before Wolf had finished speaking. "Remember the tenuous bonds of our alliances during the war? It was always you stick by me, I stick by you, Andrew followed Pigma for lack of better judgement, and Reivin was free-lance. Reivin held no love for Pigma; if he still lives he would sooner kill the swine himself than throw his hand in with their cause."

Wolf collapsed on his bed, nodding to concede the logic. "I suppose that has more clarity than anything else we've discussed."

"But is is most likely that Celestra killed him."

Clearly confused and becoming irritated Wolf stammered, "You just said - "

"I was exposing all the options." Leon was grinning in a highly superior fashion; the lupine scowled. "You really should attempt to unravel all the finer points yourself, you know - it would save me a great deal of time."

"I don't understand."

Leon's eyes narrowed. "After years of betrayal, do you think she let him get away? His ongoing treasons cost her a great deal. Even in the absence of legitimate proof, the outcome is clear - Celestra killed Reivin that day, as you and I both expected long ago. To consider otherwise is ridiculous."

* * *

The next day Celestra felt more rested but increasingly more uneasy as Corneria drew nearer. She and Slippy had been close friends throughout the war, but his hatred for the mercenaries of Star Wolf ran as deep as everyone else she new. Would he take one look at the unlikely alliance and turn them all away? 

With these thoughts weighing heavily on her mind the assassin rounded the corner into the control room and stopped fast. Leon was seated in the captain's chair, feet stacked up on the helm in a relaxed pose as he studied the vast space spread out before them. She opened her mouth to say something, but he must have already sensed her presence because he said without turning to face her, "We remain clear on all sides and unquestioned. There have been no incidences for the past eight hours."

"You've been awake and sitting here for that long?" Celestra asked skeptically, advancing into the room and taking the seat to his right.

"I dozed off three hours ago for no more than twenty minutes," the chameleon admitted, turning his neck to and fro to relieve some of the tension. "I don't sleep more than three hours a day."

They passed several minutes in silence, not sure what to say to the other. It felt strange to be seated in the same room on even terms, as they had spent many years in the pursuit of one another's deaths, so neither of them had pondered a topic of pleasant conversation. Finally Leon shifted slightly in his seat and said quietly, "Did you kill Reivin?"

Celestra paused for a moment, slightly taken aback by the unexpected question, but she recovered quickly and said, "Yes. Just before Fox and I entered Venom's City Proper in search of Andross."

"Undoubtedly it was the most liberating experience of your life." Celestra glanced over at Leon in surprise as he said this, but he was still surveying the field of deep space vigilantly.

"No, it wasn't."

Now Leon did look up, a trace of confusion in his eyes. Satisfied that she had caught his attention she continued, "I felt like I was losing something."

"Competition? A sense of consistency in a chaotic world? Your only true fighting equal?"

Celestra shook her head at each of his guesses. "A friend."

"There is a special place in hell reserved for liars," Leon offered simply in reply.

"Nevermind," Celestra said in frustration, rolling her eyes. "You're incapable of understanding."

At this Leon raised his eyebrows in amusement. "Me, incapable of understanding you? Once you had begun to explain I would sooner garner the rest of the tale from you myself than become confused."

"And yet your smart remarks make me somewhat disinclined to bother."

Leon sighed. "Do you realize that this conversation was rather pre-determined?" Celestra didn't seem to follow, so he decided to elaborate. "In all the epic tales in which hated enemies are so forced to work together they insist on remaining tragically misunderstood. A strong sense of pride and an unwillingness to make peace with past events pits them every against one another and - "

"Resulting in destruction from within and mutiny," Celestra finished cleverly. "Popular stories with predictable flaws; it's easy to tell where the characters went wrong and just as easy to say 'if I were in that situation, I wouldn't make those mistakes'. And here we are, living the story, making those mistakes we swore we would never make."

Leon was astounded, and after the initial surprise at being so easily understood for a change he felt like a fool. Had he not just boasted that he was more intelligent? And now she had done that which he was so confident he could do! Impressed, he touched two fingers to his forehead in a condescending salute. "I'm not used to being so easily understood, nor was I expecting you to get so far ahead of me."

"We underestimated each other?" the female assassin offered, a smirk claiming her lips.

"Agreed." Leon smiled to himself. "Let's try not to fall into the acclaimed pride trap and at least respect one another. Let Wolf and Morray argue like fools."

Now Celestra laughed, remembering how particularly nasty they had been to each other when they had agreed to work together.

"Now tell me what you meant when you called Reivin a friend."

Celestra took a moment to gather her thoughts, gazing contemplatively down at her hands as she did so. Finally she began slowly, "Reivin was my greatest friend before he became my greatest enemy; we attended flight academy together for years. Even though he betrayed me and made it his life's pursuit to kill me, the memories that linger closest to the surface are ones of friendship, not of hate. As I get older the darker memories will fade, but the ones I keep are ones that contain a dear friend."

Leon nodded to show he understood and relaxed in his chair. Being of a darker nature he found it strange to hear of a friendly, caring Reivin Frost with a kind disposition and true friends. He himself had never had friends, only allies that shared his side of the spectrum and underlings that fearfully respected his talents as an evil mercenary. Vaguely he wondered what that might be like, but he dismissed the thought just as quickly. Changing the subject he asked, "You are worried that Erik and Slippy will refuse us help?"

The assassin visibly winced. "It shows?"

"Quite plainly. You look as though you're wondering what we shall do if the worst should happen."

"Honestly? If help from KWEST doesn't work out, we have nowhere else to go."

"How comforting." Leon folded his arms over his head and closed his eyes.


	6. Chapter Six, Star Wolf Reborn

Chapter Six, "Star Wolf Reborn" 

When Paradox touched down practically in KWEST's backyard, there was quite a bit of commotion. Heavily-armed security guards surrounded the cruiser in well-choreographed droves, hands uneasily resing on weapons but making no further move toward blatant hostility.

Jak Winchester approached the cruiser's boarding ramp confidently, studying its make and model with a practiced eye and carrying an electron machinegun three-quarters his size. He was a tall human with pleasantly tan skin and blonde hair he wore long and tied back in a ponytail, and even then several messy strands hung in front of brilliant sky-blue eyes. He had a stocky body structure, a thick barreled chest and muscular arms well honed from many years of weapon training.

"Let's have it then!" he called out loudly, stopping a few feet from the open ramp and throwing his head back proudly. "Where I come from we don't bust in and then hide out like cowards, savvy? Get a move on!"

His voice was thick with exotic southern accent; anyone who didn't know him could tell instantly that he was a pureblood Katinan.

"At least allow me a moment to straighten my hat, respectable Mr. Winchester!" came the good-natured reply, and a moment later Sensenic Morray strode down the ramp and into view. True to his claim he was placing the black bolero at its familiar rakish angle upon his head with a dashing grin; Jak handed his gun off to a nearby security guard and extended his hand to the man in jubilant greeting.

"Doc Morray! Ain't this a grand surprise!" Clapping a hand on Morray's back he led the Fortunan towards KWEST's entrance. "My superiors'll be awful pleased! What brings ya here unannounced?"

"I'm afraid that's a matter for the executives only," Morray said, dropping his voice so no one could hear save Jak. "And I've got to meet with them at once; my business is extremely urgent."

Asking no further questions Jak led Morray to the nearest elevator and they boarded; sweeping long blonde hair out of his eyes Jak pressed the gold button labeled seventy and pressed his right hand to the plasma screen in the wall for verification. Soon their car was speeding up the shaft toward the executive floor; Jake gazed sidelong at the commander-in-chief and was surprised to find him looking worried.

The door slid open and Morray quickened his steps toward the door at the end of the hall, leaving Jak to wait near the elevator they had just exited. Entering without knocking he found Erik on the phone, jotting down notes, and Slippy typing away at a computer on his desk. Both looked up to see Morray and their faces lit up with radiant smiles; his face grave, a churning in his stomach, Morray closed the door behind him.

"You'll want to finish that call as quickly as you can, please," he begged, and looking quite perplexed Erik exchanged a few more words with the receiving end and hung up.

"What's the matter, Doctor? Are you alright?" his adopted son asked, and Slippy looked up from his work in confusion.

"I've never compromised you," Morray stated more than asked. "I've always been straight with the pair of you and kep your best interests at heart."

"Always," Slippy assured.

"Therefore you would be prepared to trust in any decision I make, understanding that all I do, I do for a reason?"

"Of course!" exclaimed Erik, wondering where this was going.

"Then follow me, and be prepared for anything," Morray finished, and he turned and opened the door for them. Erik rose from his chair, glancing over at Slippy quizzically; the toad merely shrugged back at him, and they followed the older Fortunan out the door.

Jak snapped to attention as the two KWEST executives approached, but Erik signaled for him to be off on his way so the Katinan descended via a separate elevator. Once on the ground floor Slippy laughed at Morray's ridiculous landing job, but the mirth did nothing to lighten the man's mood. He led them up the ramp and onto the cruiser, then passed down the hall to the control room and beckoned his two comrades inside. After exchanging one last glance with Slippy, Erik led the way inside.

Wolf was pacing back and forth impatiently near the helm, casting wrathful stares at the numerous security guards through the window; Celestra was sitting in the captain's chair, watching him, and Leon was leaning on the wall just right of the door. Upon seeing him Slippy gave a little yelp of fear and leapt behind Erik, whose face had gone pale with surprise.

"Welcome aboard," Leon greeted smoothly, and with a derisive smirk he crossed his arms.

"You!" Erik gasped out, eyes snapping back and forth between each of them in turn. "You kidnapped Sensenic and Celestra! You forced them to fly here!"

Wolf and Leon burst into laughter.

"I can explain," Morray began imploringly, but Erik rounded on him in fury.

"You and them!"

"Erik, please, listen to me - "

"You came here with them willingly!"

"Yes, I did, but - "

"The whole galaxy is looking for them, and you're helping them!" shrieked Erik, and he was panting under the strain of his constant screaming. "How could you betray the republic like this!"

"We've got to call Pepper," Slippy put in, and he started for the door.

That did it; quick as lightning Celestra darted out of her chair and leveled a handheld plasma laser at Slippy's forehead. "Wait just a second, Slippy. We can't just let you leave; you've got to hear us out."

Slippy and Erik were frozen in fear; slowly Leon approached, firmly grasped the weapon, and slipped it out of Celestra's hand. It seemed to break the momentary spell of violence that gripped her; she turned in confusion, and he re-holstered the weapon at her hip. "You can't just run around pointing guns at your friends' heads, Celestra; you've got to be a bit more tactful. Invite our guests in first, and we'll talk this over on even terms."

Cautiously Erik and Slippy entered the room, and Morray closed the door behind them. Before any more arguments could stir up he launched into a detailed version of the entire story. Celestra jumped in to explain the conversation with the two mercenaries at her apartment, and when Erik asked for a full account of the events aboard Star Wolf's dead cruiser Wolf obliged by launching into it with occasional promptings from Leon. It took the better part of half an hour to clear everything up, and when Morray had at last finished Erik had only one question.

"What are you doing here?"

Morray's expression clouded, unsure of what to say next, and when he glanced to Celestra for ideas she shook her head and dropped her gaze to the floor. Leon looked to Wolf and, seeing no explanation forthcoming, he offered, "We don't have anywhere else to go, and don't expect to be discovered here thanks to your code of secrecy; I don't say this often, but I'll admit it - you're both smarter than I am. And we're going to need you two to pull this off."

"We've got to find Pigma and Andrew, and we think you can find them a lot faster than we can," Celestra added, and Leon nodded his approval.

Slippy and Erik exchanged a silent glance that served to convey an unspoken debate. It was a dangerous and delicate situation, one that required a lot of prior thought process before any action was taken. Several minutes snailed by as their four guests waited with bated breath; finally Slippy looked up with resolve.

"What do you need from us?"

Morray seemed relieved. "Well, for starters, a private hangar for this cruiser and a secluded place to reside within."

"Done." Erik motioned for Wolf and Leon to put on cloaks, and Slippy led the way down the hall as they concealed their features. "I'll have someone from flight coordinations set aside a hangar for you, and any smaller vehicles you might have can be moved into the garage."

"As for a place to stay, we can keep you here in KWEST," Slippy continued, and as they emerged into the bright sunshine he motioned for the security guards to be on their way. "Erik and I live here, too; when we had the place built we included five floors of living quarters for employees who live further away than the locals. Two rooms should work?"

This last was a question intended for Morray, who answered gratefully, "Yes, thank you."

"If you want someone to find Pigma and Andrew, we'll have to handle that ourselves," Erik began again. "Since no one's supposed to know you're here, we can't go asking people to look for Andross's old mercenaries and expect them to keep quiet about it."

They had reached the elevators; after Slippy and Erik both checked their hands in the plasma scanner they were asked to state their names for voice verification. Soon they were ascending the shaft, and Wolf couldn't resist asking, "I thought you operated under a strict code of silence?"

"We can't expect people to make amends for escaped killers and convicts," Slippy responded curtly, and Wolf suppressed a scowl.

"But we are the best ones for the job, so it's no trouble," Erik inserted quickly, silently berating his fellow executive with a look. "Now that we've established a seat of power here and have a few hundred people working for us, I doubt anyone in the galaxy could out-hack the two of us." As he finished they reached the single door in the executive hallway and entered the office, seating themselves as various places; Erik wheeled his chair up to his computer and looked up at Leon. "Now - where were your two ex-comrades most likely to run to after they rigged your ship to fail?"

Leon heaved a sigh and dropped his chin into one hand. "Believe me, I would tell you if I had the slightest clue." He looked up at Erik curiously. "I wonder - could you get ahold of a full list of Separatists either imprisioned or executed? It will help narrow the list of potential allies for them to seek out, and we can check their backgrounds to be sure they're really out of the picture."

Erik started typing with Leon studying the computer coding over his shoulder. "Slippy - when was the last time we hacked the government systems?"

"Yesterday," Slippy replied absently, pouring coffee for himself, Morray, Celestra, and Wolf; Leon waved off the offer.

"Did we make it undetected? I can't remember."

"They were a mile behind us. They're probably not even sure of which files we took." Slippy picked up the telephone on his desk and dialed a few numbers before saying, "Janet, hello, it's Slippy. Outside there is a small Fortunan cruiser on our lawn; have someone from your department move it to a private hangar, and be sure to keep teh doors down. Any repairs it should need, be sure that it gets them. Oh - if there are any personal craft in the cruisers' docking bay, be sure to have them re-located to the garage and tuned up. All clear? Alright - thank you."

Erik and Leon were scowling heavily at the younger Fortunan's computer screen; Celestra sidled over to look, and Leon glanced up at her. "This information is highly encrypted and under heavy cyber security. It's likely he'll be caught."

Erik scoffed at the remark and started typing again. "They couldn't catch me if every division of Arspace was on my tail."

"I resent that remark, being the head of one of said divisions," Morray put in dryly.

An intercom buzzed, followed by a woman's voice. "Slippy, the cruiser has been moved to hangar twenty-six. We found a GX-Garrison sportsca and a Katinan assault motorcyble in its docking bay, and as per your orders they are now in the garage."

"Thank you, Janet. Have a few people gather up the personal belongings in the living quarters, and move them to rooms 46-A and 46-B on the fifty-third floor." Turning to Morray he added, "I'll be sure to get you room keys when we've cleared a few things up."

Overwhelmed by the speed and efficiency of the two KWEST executives, Morray merely nodded. Wolf sat down heavily in a chair by the window, holding his head in his hands.

"I'm in," said Erik suddenly, and the printer beside him whirred to life and spat out a few sheets of paper. "Celestra, I don't suppose you would copy that information twice for me?"

The female assassin nodded and moved to the copy machine across the room. Erik frantically aborted his business and picked up the phone. "This is Erik; patch me through to the logistics department, please." Celestra handed the copies to Erik then, who pushed one back into her hands and passed another to Leon. "Is this logistics? Will you send Jak Winchester up here, please? Inform him that he's in trouble; it'll get him up here faster. Thanks so much!"

"What'd Jak do?" Slippy asked over his shoulder, skirting around the desk to intercept a copy of the newly-printed list from his colleague. As they watched he tacked the list to the back of the door.

"Nothing," Erik answered with a mischeivious grin. "But he's about to agree to do something that he won't likely forget in his lifetime."

A knock sounded tentatively on the door, and to Wolf and Leon's horror, Slippy answered it. Nervously Jak Winchester entered the room, and other than a slight widening of his eyes as he recognized the two former mercenaries he did not panic at all. Slippy ushered him inside and closed the door.

"Am I in trouble?" Jak asked Slippy quietly. "'Cause I can't remember nothin' I did wrong."

"You're not in trouble." And with that he launched again into the tale of Pigma and Andrew's betrayal, Wolf and Leon's flight from Titania to find Celestra, Anilora's plan to find the lot of them, and Morray's decision to turn to KWEST for aid. When Slippy had finished Jak no longer seemed scared of the two former mercenaries; quite the contrary he was nodding his understanding of the situation and grinning at his superior.

"And when ya find the scumbags and where they're hidin', ya want me to help take care of 'em," Jak concluded.

"Exactly," congratulated Erik. "So here's what we'll do - I'm putting you in charge of the logistics department, so you'll have free access to all the weapons and equipment you'll need to accomplish this. In exchange, though, we expect you to keep quiet about the entire ordeal; you'll speak of it only with the six of us, and if we find out you've done otherwise, you're fired at the very least."

This last was said with no hint of a threat, just a simple observation of what would happen if Jak disobeyed. Far from feeling affronted, though, Jak grinned broadly and offered a salute. "I'm honored y'all are trustin' me with this, and I won't let ya down."

"To be sure you're around when we need your help, I suggest you take a room in the complex," added Slippy, shuffling a few papers around on his desk. "I understand you live alone approximately twelve miles from here?"

"That's right. I can get my stuff and move in by tomorrow, if ya need me to."

Erik and Slippy nodded to each other. "Excellent," said Erik, clapping his hands once in finality. "Well Jak, down on the fiftieth floor you'll find the living quarters' secretary holding room keys for 46-A and 46-B; if you'll be so kind as to get those for us, and tell her you would like the key to 46-C."

With another nod, Jak excused himself. Slippy and Erik fell into their chairs in unison, studying their four guests. Gradually the eerie silence coupled with their stares made all of them uncomfortable, until finally Morray said in exasperation, "What?"

"Once we've found Pigma and Andrew, you can't just barge out into K'yorin after them," Slippy began delicately, and Celestra's eyes narrowed.

"We're smart enough to know that," she snapped. "We'll travel under-cover. We'll take routes most people don't take."

"And you'll be going out of your way and wasting valuable time, not to mention what could happen if you're recognized," Erik pointed out immediately. "If word comes that you're looking for them, they'll disappear and we'll never catch them."

Sensing that the two executives were being purposefully vague, Wolf asked, "Just what do you have in mind?"

Slippy cleared his throat. "We have some colleagues in the department of chemical research that just recently made an important breakthrough in metamorphosis. A complex liquid compound has the potential to change any of Lylat's non-human races into a human form with identical personality and thought process. Thus the brain of the being remains unchanged, and only the external appearance is altered."

"You're not seriously suggesting we submit ourselves to this!" exclaimed Wolf in a frenzy.

"We have been told that the process is in no way painful," Erik assured calmly.

"By whom?" Morray demanded defensively.

"Jak Winchester," Slippy countered, and that set both Morray and Wolf back on their heels quite a bit. "He willingly subjected himself to all the trials, and he assured us he never once felt any pain. He has been the same man since - we've put him through neural scans many times to be sure - only when we look at him, we see a human."

Leon looked up from his seat on the windowsill, seeming as cool as ever, and said, "Jak is living proof that the tests work without a flaw. We stand only to gain in this situation; no one will recognize us, and we will be able to move about as we please without any incriminating questions. I will do it, even if you two refuse."

The room fell quiet at that proclamation, and Slippy nodded his approval. "You understand you'll be giving up your camoflauge abilities and the added balance of your tail?"

Leon waved the concern aside negligently. "Mere details."

"Oh, count me in," said Morray, clapping his hands together with glee. "It sounds like such a romantic affair, after all - what non-human creature has never dreamed of being human?"

Everyone's eyes fell upon Wolf, who bared his teeth in defiance and shook his head. "Absolutely not. You fools can go right ahead and get yourselves killed before the shots have even been fired, but I most certainly will not."

Erik frowned slightly. "I must admit, Mr O'Donnel - if you refuse to undergo the transformation I doubt very much if you'll still be around when the first shots are fired."

Wolf growled low in the back of his throat and turned away. One thing he couldn't stand was sitting out while the fighting was raging around him, and since they had been betrayed to get to this point his blood was already boiling for action. Wolf despised science, though, hated the thought of tampering with things when they had clearly been made the way they were for a reason. But to let Pigma and Andrew escape after such treason -

His singel eye fell on Leon; the chameleon offered the smallest of encouraging nods before glancing away.

"Alright, I'll do it," the lupine gave in with a tone of defeat. "But if I end up screwed up, you two are going to pay for it."

Slippy picked up the phone. "Department of chemical research? This is Slippy. Listen, before Jak Winchester gets away, could you flag him down and have him bring up three phials of the new metamorphosis concoction? Super." Hanging up he added, "By the way - we have yet to develop the potion that reverts one back to his normal state; so far this stuff is permanent."

They all nodded their agreement, having already agreed to participate and not wanting to go back. Celestra sat back and weighed their reactions carefully, glad that she was exempt from the entire procedure.

A few minutes later Jak returned, arms laden with keys and phials of a milky white-silver solution. Morray, Wolf, and Leon each accepted a small glass phial, studying its contents with furrowed brows and wrinkled noses, and Erik said, "Jak, why don't you take these gentlemen down to their rooms and be sure they take the entire formula? I understand from your reports that it doesn't taste very pleasant."

"Ya got that right," Jak said with a wink, and the three followed him out into the hallway with varied degrees of anxiety and horror on their faces.

Slippy and Erik turned as one to Celestra, and her smile disappeared.

"Seeing as how you're already human, we'll have to do something else to make you look unrecognizable," said Slippy with a smile Celestra did not return. "But I think I've got just the thing." Picking up the telephone once more he said, "Hello, Cheryl? Slippy here. I understand that when you graduated college you had a minor in cosmetics. Is that right? Fantastic! You worked as a hair-stylist for two years? Well, since you ask, I've got a friend up here who needs to see you."

Celestra groaned; Erik patted her sympathetically on the shoulder, hiding his grin very well.

* * *

Leon could not take his eyes off his reflection, so hypnotized was he by what he saw. The same cold, fathomless dark eyes stared back at him, and he was still barely five feet tall, but everything else had changed. His skin was no longer a handsome shade of green, but a pale shade of creamy tan a touch lighter than a normal humans'. Meticulously short hair the shade of midnight dusted his head like fine ravens' feathers; he had a stern but cruelly handsome face, high cheekbones, dark eyebrows, and a small but pointed nose. His body structure and muscle mass had not changed, but he no longer had his tail or the claws at the ends of his fingers and toes. "This is undoubtedly the strangest experience of my life."

"I find it all so stunning!" exclaimed an ecstatic Sensenic Morray, brushing his hair for perhaps the tenth time and smiling proudly at his human reflection. Hair the color of newly fallen snow fell in a wave to his shoulders, made more brilliant by his familiar sapphire blue eyes shimmering back at him like drops of ocean water. His face was smooth and clear, radiant even; he was possessed of a heartbreaking and dazzling smile, teeth perfectly white and even beneath a slightly rounded nose. He wondered how Celestra would perceive him now that he looked like a completely different man; the barrier between them when it came to race was gone, and he felt giddy with anticipation. "We do so resemble a pair of elegant and dashing misers, don't you think?"

"I don't know if that's quite the phrase I would use," Leon admitted haltingly, absently patting his rear with a frown. "I miss my tail."

"As do I, but isn't this grand? Haven't you ever dreamt about being possessed of human nature? Here we are - " Morray tossed his hair and flashed his charming smile at the mirror again, " - living a fantasy!"

"You and your fantasy can go to hell, Morray!" shouted Wolf from the restroom, where he had been hiding for the past half hour. Leon and Morray shared a chuckle at his expense before Wolf howled, "And stop all your damn laughing before I make you!"

"Come on, Wolf, how bad can it possibly be?" Leon called back, relieved that his voice had not changed either.

"So bad that I'm calling an interior decorator to make this bathroom a bit more hospitable!" came the furious reply, and his two comrades laughed harder before he swore violently back at them.

"Between the two of us, respectable Mr. O'Donnel, I think Leon and I could pummel the door until it collapses," Morray joked, running his fingers through his hair admiringly. "Or you can act like a man adn come join us of your own volition.

He must have hit a nerve, for a few moments later the door cracked open and Wolf edged his way into the room, scowling heavily with each step. Pale grey hair hung in messy strads past his shoulders, framing a slightly tanned face and a single electric blue eye. He was still wearing his customary eyepatch to cover the empty socket; two frowning lines stretched from the corners of his mouth beneath a hawkish nose and thin grey eyebrows. Leon thought he cut a very striking, intimidating figure; Wolf tied his hair back with a rubber band and studied Morray with a bemused expression on his face.

"Nice hair," he snarled sarcastically, crossing his arms. "Let's hope Celestra has a thing for human females."

With a sweeping gesture Morray placed the black bolero on his head, straightening the feather with flair. "If she does, I suppose you'll be her type, won't you?"

Wolf attempted to growl, his customary response to anything that made him angry, but the sound was nowhere near as intimidating as normal now that he was human. Quite the contrary the sound incited renewed laughter from Morray and Leon, and after a moment the former mercenary leader himself joined in with a sheepish grin.

A knock sounded on the door and Celestra stepped in, wearing an expression of discomfort on her face and a towel wrapped around her head. Her eyes fell upon Morray immediately, and he stared back at her evenly, praying for some sort of approval; a blush spread up her neck to her cheeks, the red serving to bring out the bright green of her eyes -

Green eyes?

Morray frowned slightly, brushing a thick strand of hair from his face and advancing a singel step to study her. There was no doubt about it; the assassin's piercing, icy blue eyes were now a remarkable shade of emerald as she studied him speechlessly. Leon and Wolf must have noticed, too, because Wolf asked, "What's up with your eyes?"

"Even though I didn't change races, I did change - sort of," Celestra stammered uncomfortably. "These are just colored lenses, but my hair - " Again she broke off, pointing to the towel she wore, and they seemed to understand.

"Come now, my dear," Morray said gently. "I'm sure it looks fine - "

"Sure it does," Celestra interrupted angrily, and with that she unraveled the towel for them to see.

Before her hair had fallen to her bustline, and Morray's jaw dropped when it only brushed her chin. No longer was it the lustrous color of onyx but a shocking hue of golden-blonde. Were it not for her customary defiant expression they would have mistaken her for someone else; as it was even Wolf and Leon couldn't help but stare.

"Well, you're a very motley crew, to be sure," remarked Slippy from the doorway, coming in with Erik and Jak at his heels. "I must say that I'm stunned at the results, though; that potion seems to work perfectly on all non-human races. The lot of you are completely unrecognizable!"

"Your voices are all a bit telling," Erik admitted, absently scratching behind one of his ears. "If you run into any close acquaintances they could become slightly suspicious, but without a familiar face to match they'll pass it off as coincidence."

"It should all work real nice," Jak interjected with a nod.

"Alright," Wolf sighed in exasperation, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress and picking at his hair with a snarl. "So we look the part. What happens now?"

"Now we start checking backgrounds of every man and woman on that list," said Erik. "Some of them were released and acquitted after their hearings; if they disclosed names of Separatists still running free Pepper made the decision to let them go. We need to keep tabs on every one of them, in case your old buddies go looking for help."

"That will take a good deal of research," Leon warned.

"We have to start somewhere," Slippy admitted. "Before we can let the lot of you go running around, we need some information. Even when we get a lead, Jak will probably be accompanying you everywhere."

"We need babysitters now?" scoffed Celestra.

"Of course not," Slippy said calmly. "When it comes to weapons, no one is better than Jak. He has the largest arsenal of anyone I've ever met, and he can use every weapon in it."

Wolf and Leon suppressed a laugh; at Slippy's words Jak had swelled with pride and now resembled a blowfish.

"In the meantime, keep to the inside of the complex," Erik added. "Who knows how much trouble you'll get into outside of KWEST's walls?" With that the two executives and Jak filed out, quietly discussing their plans as they trouped toward the elevators.

Morray ceased his primping as Celestra raised an eyebrow at him. "Alright, boys - it is quite late, I assure, and thus it is high time you retired to your own quarters for the evening. Shall we convene again in the morning to discuss our movements?"

"Sure, Dad," Wolf shot back sarcastically, and clucking his tongue in a reprimanding fashion Leon ushered his comrade out of the room, closing the door behind them.

Later, just before Wolf turned out the lights, he caught Leon staring entranced at his slender yet powerful human hands, and he said, "This is it. There's no turning back now."

"I know." Leon flicked the lights off himself and settled in for the night, forcing any unspoken doubts into the back of his mind and resigning himself to sleep. "There's nowhere else to run."


	7. Chapter Seven, Chasing Shadows

Chapter Seven, "Chasing Shadows" 

Arspace Division Four buzzed with excitement when Captain Anilora led Bill, Fox, and Falco into the compled; everywhere they went technicians strayed from their work to spare a few seconds in awe of the passing entourage, for there wasn't a single person in Lylat who didn't know the courageous deeds of these four. Keeping to their business they trooped up to the top floor, where a single secretary sat at a desk in a quiet waiting room, and behind her was the door to the executive office of Sensenic Morray.

"Good afternoon," Anilora greeted her cordially. "Is Doctor Morray terribly busy, or could we visit with him for a moment?"

The secretary, a fairly plump black bear with bejeweled reading glasses, shifted a few papers across her desk. Falco, the nearest to her, thought it appeared as though she was covering something up. "I'm sorry, Captain, but I'm afraid he's out of the office. You could leave a message with me, if you like, and I'll get it to him when he returns."

Puzzled looks crossed the four mercenaries's faces, and Bill raised an eyebrow. "Do ya have any idea where he went?"

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to say," said Morray's secretary nervously, and Fox and Falco exchanged a curious gaze as Anilora's eyes narrowed. "And I am not aware of when he will return. Good day, gentlemen."

This last was said curtly, an indisputable ending of the inquiry; with a nod of thanks Anilora led him companions back down the stairs.

"That's not like Morray at all," Bill told them, when they had returned to the parking lot and found their hovercar. "Sure, the man's got a knack for quiet cleverness and what have you, but to just take off and cover his whereabouts? Why would he do somethin' like that?"

"It's certainly not in his nature." Anilora was gazing down at his feet, stumped. "During the war he never withheld information from the general and me; he never had a reason to, being as much of a bleeding-heart Loyalist as we four are. Something isn't right here, and his secretary obviously knew more than she let on."

Fox settled into the drivers' seat and buckled his safety belt, taking note of Falco's expression as Anilora said this. Turning the key in the ignition the vulpine asked, "What's on your mind, Falco?"

"What? Oh! Well, I think she was hiding something on her desk," Falco began absentmindedly. "And I was thinking - maybe Morray left her a note? Should we got through her stuff to be sure?"

He glanced over his shoulder at Anilora, who shrugged and heaved a sigh.

"We haven't exhausted all of our options," he offered. "Let's see if he is at home. Perhaps he is merely giving himself a slight vacation - after all, he only just returned from Titania on the colonization project."

"He lives on the outskirts of Daxter, in the foothills of the Fortunan Pass," Fox informed them, changing lanes and veering onto the freeway. "His place is a mansion; we can't miss it."

* * *

"They're here."

Pigma looked up with obvious fear in his eyes to study Merrick, who watched him with a calm and otherwise indifferent expression on his face. "You're sure?"

Merrick scowled angrily. "Of course I"m sure, you dolt! And something has occurred that I did not foresee; they have been joined by Celestra Marquette and Sensenic Morray."

"We're doomed." Pigma dropped his head into his pudgy hands for a moment before rising and pointing an accusatory finger at the human standing before him, saying, "You should have prepared for this! You told me every loose end was accounted for, and there would be no mistakes!"

"Oh, really?" Eyes narrowing sternly Merrick advanced a step, causing Pigma to shrink back in alarm. "And did you even once consider that Wolf and Leon would seek out their greatest enemies for help?"

"N-No," stammered Pigma through clenched teeth. "Of course not. The idea is ridiculous."

"Precisely why I did not prepare for it," Merrick spat.

"But - " Pigma swallowed hard, seeing Merrick's eyes flash dangerously. "How do you know they're here?"

"Not that it's any of your business, mind you, but I have a great many followers," Merrick continued smoothly. "A pair of them work at Arspace Division One, and are petitioning to join the KWEST enterprise, that my influence may strengthen. Yesterday they were meeting with a recruitment councilor when a small cruiser landed on the premises. It must have been there without clearance, because security surrounded it immediately; the head of security escorted Sensenic Morray into the complex, and later, the two executives had the cruiser moved into a private hangar - but not before my colleagues watched Celestra Marquette disembark, leading a pair of cloaked figures inside." Merrick smirked wickedly. "They are indeed here, and what's more - Morray knows the KWEST executives personally."

"We should try to get ahold of Morray," Pigma inserted quickly, just as Andrew entered the room.

"I've already taken care of that. If the good doctor takes any little excursions on his own, we will bring him into custody. If not, it's only a matter of time until my influence extends into the great halls of KWEST; I will find out soon."

"General Pepper still doesn't know you're moving against him?" Andrew observed.

Merrick laughed a little at that, running a hand through his long black hair. "Of course not. And how could he? Reconstruction, the failure to colonize Titania, sentencing Separatists, Star Wolf on the move . . . no, the poor dolt is absolutely blind to the possibility of mutiny, something that will become clear one day when I assassinate him."

Silence. Pigma and Andrew were stunned by this bold promise.

"None of this is our concern, at any rate," Merrick continued casually. "The new teams of Star Wolf and Star Fox will eliminate one another, and when they are all dead the Rogue Separatist Uprising will truly begin. When it does, no one of any importance will be left to raise arms against us."

"But - " Andrew was looking painfully confused. "Even if Marquette and Morray are a part of Star Wolf now, Anilora and the others would never fight them, would they?"

"That all comes down to a code of morals," explained the rogue leader. "By joining with Wolf and Leon, Morray and Marquette opened to me a possibility that I simply overlooked; a willingness to lay aside all misgivings and work together against a common enemy. By now all four of them have realized that our ultimate goal is to restore Andross and hand a cowed Lylat to him; although both pairs have different motives, they wish the same end result.

"But a man like Anilora, bound by the critical, demanding world of political power, doesn't have that option. He has no choice but to pursue Star Wolf with the intention to kill; if he does not, he will likely be ousted from captaincy and branded a Separatist supporter."

Pigma and Andrew stared back at him blankly; Merrick glared back at them, annoyed.

"You still do not understand? Then let me be more straightforward for you simpletons - if both sides are unwilling to give up fighting for what they believe in, they will be forced to fight each other. Friends have joined forces with enemies, and friends raise weapons against friends. While all this is going on, we are free to do as we please."

"You actually think that Marquette and Morray will battle Anilora, Grey, McCloud, and Lombardi just to stop us?" Pigma questioned skeptically.

Merrick seated himself in a chair in a corner of the room, kicking his booted feet up on the dirty footstool as he surveyed the two former mercenaries. "I certainly do. And if Wolf and Leon have allied with Morray and Marquette, they have long since thrown caution to the winds. Desperate men turn the tides of war, as Celestra Marquette herself proved in killing first Reivin Frost, then Andross. They will do anything to achieve their vengeance against you, as you now know."

"But they won't find us," Pigma pleaded more than stated. "With everyone looking for them, they'll just run themselves into a corner, won't they?"

"Unlikely," Merrick admitted, rather enjoying the alarmed expressions on their faces as he said this. "Andross had good reason to place trust in Wolf and Leon; both intelligent, capable, and worthy of the title of mercenary. Sensenic Morray is widely considered the most brilliant Loyalist of the age; he can fly, fight, engineer, strategize, and command all at once without so much as batting an eyelash. And above all else we must be wary of Celestra; I have seen what she is capable of, and I will never underestimate her as Andross and Reivin did."

The cold severity of his voice continued to mount as he spoke, until a violent shudder coursed down Pigma's spine that he could not repress. Suddenly he ws very, very afraid of the new Star Wolf mercenaries.

Merrick smirked with satisfaction, but the overlapping shadows hid the expression on his face. "Do not worry, my friends," he said, his voice a sinister dark calm. "All will be dealt with accordingly. I have spent the last five years constructing a base of power; the arm of influence is long, and reaches far beyond the sight of all."

* * *

A small sliver of light agitated Wolf's single closed eye until he opened it, disentangling his legs from the bedsheets and rolling over onto his back as he struggled to wake up. As his eye adjusted to the dim light he could make out the silhouette of a diminuitive, dark-haired man shuffling through papers on the dresser at the other end of the room; recognizing Leon, he sat up wearily and yawned in salutation.

"Sorry to wake you, but I needed my copy of that list of Separatists," the former chameleon began, straightening and skimming the pages with piercing eyes. "It's no use; all of the names checked out without a hitch."

"Every one of those people passed? They're all dead or imprisoned?" Wolf exclaimed incredulously.

Leon nodded, still focusing his main attentions on the pages he held. "There are death certificates, parole dates, public hearings, court decisions . . . every person on this list is backed up by some legitimate information." With that, Leon tore up the pages and tossed the scraps haphazardly into a little wicker bin near the door.

"Damn . . . all that work, and still no leads," Wolf muttered, clutching the long grey tatters of his hair in frustration.

"Not exactly." The former mercenary leader looked up to see his colleague holding out another sheet of paper. "With Slippy and Erik's help I tapped into the top-secret government files to get a fugitives-at-large list. This just happens to be Corneria's Fifty Most Wanted, the most up-to-date copy available." Nonchalantly he handed the single sheet of paper to Wolf, but in his eyes there was a trace of something unsettling.

Wolf gave a start. There was his name at the top of the list! And Leon's just beneath! Guilt and fear twisted his stomach into a knot; he felt lethargic and old, and his shoulders sagged. Silently he glanced up at Leon.

The young mercenary wasn't facing him, busying himself with organizing the many documents stacked on his chest-of-drawers, but Wolf could still see a profile of his face. So hardened from its past few years as a mercenary under Andross, and with none of the youth it should have shone; Leon was only eighteen, but he looked at least twenty-five . . . Wolf swallowed hard. It was no secret that he had been the one to force Leon to grow up so fast.

He remembered the first time he had seen Leon on the streets of K'yorin. Back then he had been merely a boy, surviving off his quick wits and knives in a place where violence and crime reigned supreme. And yet when the infamous mercenary leader had questioned some of the local thugs they had spoken of fourteen-year-old Leon Powalski with a mixture of respect and fear. He was volatile and rather unpredictable, but Wolf had never seen someone so young battle with such skill.

Something had drawn him to the young chameleon; under Wolf's intense yet patient tutelage Leon had learned discipline, the way to fight with strategy beyond his years, and an iron will that eventually molded into a cool and calculating intellect. But what could he have become, given a proper upbringing and an opportunity to be educated? What had Wolf created that might have been different? All their battles, their struggles, their suffering . . . Wolf blamed himself for all of it.

He had turned a wayward boy into a heartless killer, just like himself.

Leon looked back to find Wolf staring at him; his former mercenary leader looked so haggard and melancholy that he put aside the papers and approached almost hesitantly.

"How much longer are you going to blame yourself for all this?" he asked pointedly, and Wolf stared. "You didn't get my name on that list; I expect it would be there regardless. Let it go, Wolf - I wouldn't have survived out there without you."

"How did you know - ?"

"It's your eyes." Leon's gaze was far away in recollection. "When we had been on that dead cruiser for about a week, I could tell something was different. You looked at me strangely, like you were wondering how the situation could have been different . . . and you didn't care about Pigma and Andrew, I knew, because they both deserved what they got. You and I were the team, you know; they were only there because past experience and blood worked in their favor." The smaller human turned away, organizing his papers again and adding quietly, "Besides, I don't think there was any saving left to be done, given my childhood."

Wolf shivered and looked away, feeling sorry for his comrade, and felt compelled to say, "You're my only friend, you know."

Leon looked up, almost concerned. "I thought mercenaries weren't supposed to have friends."

"After everything we've been through in the past few years, how could we be anything but?" Wolf heard himself counter. "I watched you grow up; I helped you change, and become the person you are now. When I gave the order to retreat from Area 6, it was because you asked me to, and I trust your judgement even over my own. And when Pigma and Andrew betrayed us out there, you stuck by me, even though it might have been easier for you to get rid of me." Leon was staring at him evenly, as though trying to understand yet not appear too perplexed. "And when you told me that we wouldn't survive without help, I followed you all the way here. Mercenaries only do that when they're told. Friends do that because they feel obligated to."

Leon continued to stare at him, carefully offering no facial expressions as he mulled the entire scenario over. What was the point in sticking by Wolf? On the streets he had learned not to trust anyone beyond their immediate usefulness, but the leader of Star Wolf had turned out to be quite different; he believed in the team itself, and not the individuals aspiring to greater things, and for his part did everything possible to keep his partners out of unnecessary danger, even though he had never liked Pigma or Andrew. He was possessed of a sense of honor and a dislike for underhanded tactics that most other Separatists did not understand, much less care for, and he had never made a decision based on what he alone wanted. Leon realized for the first time that this man had practically raised him, and that he was far better for it.

Besides, after everything had fallen apart, the only thing that remained constant was Wolf himself, so was it really so bad?

"Unbelievable." Leon offered a small chuckle, and it sounded so real that Wolf actually smiled. "You've caught me in a logic trap. I don't know what to say."

The moment was awkward, but the ex-mercenary commander was somehow reluctant to let it pass. "Say you understand."

"I think that I do."

"Now say that you believe me."

Leon's smile did not fade, and Wolf knew he had won.

"Why not?" Leon accepted the fugitives-at-large list and started studying the names under his as Wolf rose to change his clothes. "Alright, Wolf, you've caught me at last. You are my friend, and I'm far better for knowing you."

* * *

For fifteen minutes they pounded on the front door, assaulted the doorbell, and shouted to be let in, but nothing and no one stirred from inside the mansion of Sensenic Morray. Frustrated and for the moment bested they slouched down on the doorstep to think.

"He's not at work," observed Falco, fervently massaging his temples, "and he's not at home. Where else would he be?"

"General Pepper would know if Morray had been reassigned," Anilora assured them, balancing his chin on one fist. "I likely would as well."

Bill, however, raised a handheld laser pistol and blasted the doorknob cleanly off, then kicked in the door with a dull thud. When the others looked at him disapprovingly he only shrugged and said, "Hey, I'm an assassin. Usually if there's somebody I can't find, I bust in and check the place for signs of struggle."

With no further objections to make, Fox, Falco, and Anilora took their feet and followed Bill into the dark house, all the while loosening weapons on their belts. As they paused in the foyer to let their eyes adjust, Anilora took the lead and nodded for Bill to follow him; Fox and Falco split off and made their way toward the basement.

To the surprise of all, the mansion was quaint, tidy, and quiet, with no sign of trouble throughout. They met up in the sitting room, now more irritated than ever.

"No forced entry," Fox informed his fellow mercenaries with a sigh. "I checked every door."

"And none of the windows are broken," added Falco. "Is his car here?"

"Not in the garage," Bill put in, re-holstering his laser pistol. "And all the transmission lines are fully operational, so communications were never cut."

As one they turned to look at Anilora, who was standing with his back to them and staring out the window toward the mountain peaks to the north. "No foul play," they heard him mutter, and when he glanced over his shoulder at them he concluded aloud, "We must assume that he left of his own accord."

"But you said yourself that he would never do something like that!" Fox pointed out, and Falco nodded in agreement.

"And I meant that." The Katinan captain seemed to be doing some very serious thinking, and he arrived at a conclusion that he did not like at all. "Perhaps he did not wish to leave, but had little say in the matter."

Bill was the first to catch on. "Ya think Star Wolf got ta him first?"

"It is certainly not out of the realm of possibility. Our mercenary friends docked Ambassador on Titania, that much we are sure of, and probably disembarked here in Daxter. It is quite possible that they followed poor Sensenic home."

An unsettling silence descended before Falco said, "What about Celestra? Doesn't she live near here?"

All eyes turned to Bill, who shifted rather uneasily. "Yeah, but I don't know where . . . I've never seen her secret bases; I just have the transmission numbers."

"Call her." Fox was looking unnerved. "There's a G-Diffuser system in the master bedroom."

The four Star Fox mercenaries trooped down the hall to Morray's room, where Bill typed in the twelve-digit communication code for Celestra's Fortunan base. The signal bleeped and bleeped for many long minutes, but was never answered. Worry crossed every face.

"Gentlemen," began Anilora, running a hand down his face, "we have a very serious problem."

"You're sure she's back from hunting rogues out near Macbeth and Sector X?" Fox asked.

"Yes. She contacted General Pepper last week, assuring him that she could be reached in Daxter and that she would await re-assignment there."

"And he hasn't given her any new jobs?"

Anilora's face paled slightly. "I'm certain I would have been told."

"Morray's secretary." Everyone stared at Falco, who seemed to be daydreaming before he snapped his fingers and explained, "I told you guys I thought she was hiding something on her desk; it's all we've got left. Let's go back and search her stuff."

"Breakin' and enterin' Arspace is a serious offense," Bill warned. "Only the gen'ral can conduct a search without authorization."

The avian shrugged his shoulders. "Then you can wait in the car and listen to the radio for all I care. But I'm gonna get to the bottom of this." With that he turned and stalked toward the foyer, and after a moment's hesitation the others fell into step behind him.

* * *

"Here's one," said Morray suddenly, and Erik, Slippy, and Celestra all looked up in interest. "Number twenty-four."

"Close?" asked Celestra, and they all clustered around the computer screen for a better look.

"I should say so. West K'yorin." Morray brushed a wavy strand of silver-white hair from his radiant face and widened the picture. "The part of town where less-than-reputable citizens tend to congregate. Most of the city's shady dealings occur there."

"Not the sort of place I would care to start the search for Pigma and Andrew," Slippy put in disapprovingly, frowning heavily at the dirty streets and meager lighting. "All sorts of dangerous things happen in West K'yorin."

"We can't afford to pick and choose our battles," Celestra reminded. "They could be anywhere."

"The area in question is only thirty minutes from here." The commander-in-chief hastily began jotting down directions. "We could begin searching straightaway."

The door to the executive office opened, and Wolf and Leon entered, the former still rubbing sleep from his eye and adjusting his eyepatch.

"We've got one," Celestra told them, and the two mercenaries perked up immediately. "Number twenty-four, Lawrence Unruh." Leon and Wolf shared a snicker, and she added, "You two familiar with him?"

"Only loosely." Leon approached, studying the screen and carefully memorizing the address. "He didn't do well in Venom; Andross tends to frown on his particular line of work, shall we say."

Morray seemed worried, but a look of confusion crossed Celestra's face; Leon stared hard at her for a moment until realization dawned. Her expression turned to one of loathing. "But it's just him, so this shouldn't be so difficult."

"Not all his type are stupid," Leon warned, now facing the window and gazing down at the vast city below. "Particularly not Lawrence Unruh. He doesn't travel alone, and he's accumulated a significant number of followers over the years."

"Although if we're lucky, most of them will be a lot like him," Wolf added. "Fat, drunk, and dense."

"Then I suggest we get started," finished Morray, and they started for the door.

"Now wait just a minute!" exclaimed Erik. "You can't just go tearing around K'yorin! It's the largest, most populated city in all of Lylat! You're bound to be seen!"

Leon spread his hands, as if to remind the pair of executives that they didn't look at all like they used to. "Thanks to the metamorphosis concoction, that will hardly matter."

"But you're forgetting one thing," Slippy reminded. "That annoying tabloid, the K'yorin Columnist. Some of those reporters will do anything for a story; if one of them catches you lot but doesn't have names to print with faces, the police will be out in force. At least wait until the sun goes down; you'll have less chance of being seen."

Leon scowled. "I like that idea less. Have you ever wandered around West K'yorin at night?"

Slippy paled under the severe frown and looked away. "Er - no, I haven't."

"Well, I wouldn't advise it." The former chameleon's eyes flashed, causing the younger executive to sit quickly in his desk chair, and Celestra's eyebrows shot up in curiosity but she said nothing.

"The police could still discover our true identities," said Morray slowly, and they all looked at him in alarm. He raised his hands to calm them and continued, "While the potion did change our outward appearances, our cellular and DNA structure is still the same. Am I right, Erik?" When the younger Fortunan nodded Morray finished by saying, "If we cause too much of a stir and get apprehended by the law enforcement, one blood test can still give us all away."

Wolf growled and ground his teeth in annoyance. "Can we make a decision, please? We stand less of a chance of being caught if we travel at night, and if worse comes to worse - " He paused and shot a concerned look at Leon. " - Leon can show us around."

Celestra, Morray, Erik, and Slippy all shot questioning glances Leon's way; Leon neither looked up nor said a word in his defense.

"I vote daylight," said Erik suddenly. "It's far too dangerous anyway, in my opinion."

"I'm afraid I would rather make this a nighttime excursion," Morray disagreed. "I've put so many men in jail that the idea of going there myself sounds none too pleasant."

"Night," said Slippy.

"I'm actually going to throw in my lot with the doctor," put in Wolf. "The risks of doing this in full daylight are just too great. But don't let it go to your head, Morray."

"Day," said Celestra suddenly, and everyone looked at her in amazement. "Well, if you were me, and you were going to chase after a . . . a . . . lewd sort of fellow . . . you'd think a little differently!"

"You've got us with you," Morray pointed out, but Celestra cast him a dark look and he wisely fell silent.

Leon still hadn't said a word, merely sat back and let the whole argument pass over him as his mind fought his heart. Wolf knew why he was skeptical to visit West K'yorin, and while he was certain his mercenary leader wouldn't say as much to the others, they were surely gazing at him with suspicion. The assumption was true; the thought of returning to that part of the city was not a pleasant one - it was grating on his nerves to be in K'yorin at all! But Leon Powalski had a will of iron to combat his slight unease, and it pushed him to get over himself and consider what was best for the team. Wolf was right; the risks were too great under the brilliant sunshine, and Leon knew the city far better than the rest of them. So he sighed and grew up a little more, resolving to do what was needed.

"I will go at night," he murmured finally, "if I must."

They glanced over at the youngest mercenary in unison, and Leon rose from his chair, face blank. "But I want to meet with Jak Winchester to select weapons. I'm not going anywhere without a plasma pistol, at least."

"Why don't all of you head down to the department of logistics and meet up with Jak?" Slippy suggested. "He's in charge down there now, so he can get you anything you need. Just be sure to write down all of your arms; we keep all that on file, so we can keep track of what's in use."

"Shall we meet at the garage around ten?" said Morray, as they boarded an elevator car a few minutes later. "I'll drive us in the GX-Garrison."

"Are you sure about that?" Wolf sneered. "What if your toy gets a scratch?"

The smile faded from Morray's face. "I think that is the least of our worries, respectable Mr. O'Donnel."

As they bickered, Leon looked up to find Celestra staring at him. What was that light in her eyes? Concern? He had to give her credit; she knew that something was troubling him, even though it was so subtle that Wolf and Morray hadn't noticed. He gazed back at her for a moment longer, wishing for a split-second that he could make her understand.

Then he had severed the eye contact, and contented himself with studying the floor. He had to keep his wits about him if they were to make it through West K'yorin alive, and there was no time to second-guess himself. Dwelling on the past was pointless.

* * *

The mysterious man wearing the cowl had been sitting alone in the waiting room for about ten minutes when a familiar kind voice came over the intercom and said, "Anne-Marie Trousdale, please report to parking garage C - your car is about to be towed."

Morray's plump, fierce-looking secretary cursed beneath her breath and bustled off down the hall; Falco threw back the cowl of his cloak and began snooping around on her desk. Soon he had sorted through everything and felt his hope begin to dissolve, until he brushed aside a month-old bank statement and found a torn piece of parchment, written in a strikingly-familiar, narrow cursive hand. Falco picked it up and felt his eyes grow wide as he read the short note:

_Doctor Morray - K'yorin, Corneria; Paradox_

Falco quickly stuffed the scrap of paper into a breast pocket and pulled the cowl low to hide his features before sneaking off down the hallway. "'Your car is about to be towed'?" he repeated quietly with a soft chuckle. "Good thinkin', Captain."

* * *

Merrick went completely unnoticed by KWEST security as he stole soundlessly across the grounds, where two of his colleagues applying for admittance into the elite enterprise awaited his arrival. From a copse of trees they watched the heavily-guarded entrance in silence; nothing stirred at all, but the rogue leader turned to them and whispered, "If anyone comes out, you are to follow them and report to me at once. Do not let yourselves be seen, and do not let the people you are tailing become aware of your presence. Am I in any way unclear?"

The two masked rogues shook their heads.

Satisfied Merrick departed, content to hide and watch the entire situation from afar. There was no point in getting involved yet.

Not until Star Wolf made themselves known to all, and he was more prepared to deal with them.


	8. Chapter Eight, Night Life

Chapter Eight, "Night Life" 

Wolf had never ridden in a car with someone who listened to classical music at full volume, nor did he like it, but he was learning quickly that Sensenic Morray was very out of the ordinary. The Fortunan drove precisely the speed limit, windows and top down, holding Celestra's hand and humming piano chords as they journeyed west on the highway through K'yorin. At stop lights he waved and smiled to passerby, who offered him strange looks, and while Celestra seemed content to laugh every so often and Leon was being unnaturally silent, Wolf thought Morray was out of his mind entirely.

"Oi!" he finally shouted over the wind and music. "You want to turn that racket down? You're going to get us shot before we even get there!"

"Ah! Sorry!" Morray reached for the volume dial and turned the music down a great deal. "You'll have to excuse me, respectable Mr. O'Donnel, for my night life is non-existent. Being so devoted to what I do, I have never had the time nor the opportunity to enjoy the later hours!"

"I can tell." Wolf slouched back against the seat with a sigh. "Aren't you in your twenties?"

Morray laughed whimsically and changed lanes. "I am thirty, I will have you know!"

"You old man! It's past your bedtime!" the former lupine chided. "You mean to tell me that in thirty years you've never been out on the town?"

"Not unless you count galas and formal black-tie affairs, which I am certain you do not. And may I remind you that my life is an adventure, and there is nothing about it I would change."

He interlocked his fingers with Celestra's as he said this, prompting Wolf to mutter, "How you ever got a girl like Celestra to fall for you, I'll never understand."

Morray overheard. "That's really quite simple! She was heavily inebriated, and mistook me for a handsome, charming miser with a devilish humor and a suave character!"

They all shared a laugh at that, until Leon shifted slightly in his seat and said, "Take the next exit. Get off on Ridgeway."

The commander-in-chief released Celestra's hand and changed lanes again, veering off the freeway and onto a side ramp as he deccelerated. Sitting up a little straighter Leon leaned forward and continued, "Turn left at the next intersection and drive for about two miles. On your right you will see a run-down taco shop, next to a gas station; turn right there, and roll the windows up."

Pressing a few buttons on the control console Morray did as Leon told, also securing the top over the car again. After turning left at the intersection he glanced in the rear-view mirror and said, "I don't suppose you're going to tell us by what strange design you know your way around West K'yorin so well."

"It would take more time than we've got right now, and I likely still wouldn't tell you." Leon could feel Wolf's eye on him, but he didn't look up. "When you've turned right, slow down, because we'll be on Shifting Sand Avenue."

"Beg pardon?" said Morray, but it was Celestra who answered.

"The most dangerous street on Corneria."

"I'm impressed," Leon offered smoothly. "You've heard of it."

"Every assassin and mercenary that's a Loyalist has heard of it." Celestra shivered and glanced out the window. "It's the hub of all crime and violence on the planet."

Leon glanced out the window as well, watching the street corners and studying the many thieves, peddlers, and scantily-clad women with intense dislike. "There was a time about five years ago whn the top ten men on Corneria's Fifty Most Wanted were from Shifting Sand Avenue. The streak lasted about three months, until Reivin Frost made his appearance as a Separatist assassin; he held strong at number two until his death."

"That's more than a little unsettling." Morray was not driving very fast at all, eyes darting about warily. "Where is this tavern we're looking for? Where shall I park?"

"The Underground. It's a few blocks north yet; keep going." Leon noticed that both Celestra and Wolf were clutching weapons. "I think you should just let us off at the entrance, Doctor - if you leave the Garrison unattended, it'll likely get stripped or stolen."

"And drive around this hellhole by myself? I think not. We'll park somewhere convenient and make our way together, even if that means walking all the way back to KWEST when this is completed."

"We're in the heart of West K'yorin now. Walking out of here unscathed is a feat most commonly reserved for the drug lords," Wolf snapped from the backseat.

"Regardless, we are going to attempt this as a team." Quite before they were rady, Morray had parked the car and shifted in his seat to study all of them nervously. "Now let's stop arguing, children - we're here."

A hush came down in the car, and no one moved to exit the vehicle.

"Alright," Leon began after a measured silence. "Seeing as how I've had experience with this side of town, I suggest you all follow my lead. If any of the women approach you, keep your head down and keep walking; if anyone asks you any questions or tries to offer you anything, ignore them and refuse. Once we're inside the Underground, it will be better if we don't move about as a group; it's far too conspicuous and we'll only attract unwanted attention. Keep your weapons hidden and don't start any commotion. Oh, and you two - " Here he shot Wolf and Morray each a serious glare. "Should you choose to order a drink, never let it out of your sight. If you leave it unattended, do nt drink from it again. Everyone clear?"

Wolf, Morray, and Celestra all nodded grimly.

"Very well." Leon unlatched his door and set foot on the gravel, gazing around at the City of Crime for the first time in five years. "Let us begin."

* * *

They did well as they traversed the street, ignoring the women who approached just as Leon had instructed and keeping perfectly silent even though they were all questioned several times. Wolf seemed rather volatile, shoving the women away from him if they came too close; Morray, in contrast, tried to carefully disentangle himself from them, as though trying to be polite. Celestra had no ill encounters but seemed rather uneasy, sticking close to Leon at all times. He seemed incredibly streetwise, she decided, from the way he slipped from the womens' grasp without lashing out to the confident yet measured stride of his step. Soon they had reached the entrance to the Underground, the infamous thieves' tavern, and with one last glance from one mercenary to the next they stepped inside.

The Underground was a rowdy, raucous place, clouded with smoke, the sound of cards slapping tables, and the shouts of drunk patrons. There were far too many people crowded inside the run-down pub, forcing the Star Wolf team to shove their way forward and enticing many a rude comment as they passed. Wolf spotted a game of dice that he was familiar with and split off from the others; similarly Morray left them, making his way to the largest poker game in the bar. Leon lost sight of Celestra as he pushed forward to the bar, where he took a stool and faced a mousy-looking barkeep.

"What'll it be?" asked the owner in a snivelly voice, and Leon's mind reeled momentarily. He didn't look old enough to be considered legal age, surely! It became apparent that the question had been a serious one, however, when the barkeep scowled at him sourly.

"I don't drink," he answered quietly.

"What the hell you doin' here, then?" was the gruff reply, and the mousy barkeep bustled off to hand out shot glasses. Leon breathed an inward sigh of relief; usually if you refused a drink in West K'yorin you were either a cop or a spy, both frowned upon by the locals. It would not do to draw attention to himself.

Vaguely he wondered how his two older comrades were faring at their respective games of chance, then risked glancing all around for a moment before settling back on his stool. Celestra was nowhere in sight, and although he wasn't familiar with the churning in his stomach, he was worried.

* * *

More than a few seedy-looking men snickered when Sensenic Morray tossed a single silver coin upon the poker table and took a seat beside the dealer. He took up his five-card hand and perused his cards, then looked up, eyes dancing with silent mischief.

"Shall I assume we are playing jacks or better, then, or will someone with a slight spur of manners enlighten me with the rules?"

The snickers intensified, and the dealer passed every player the amount of cards he asked for. "Be serious, old man. This ain't no game. We play high stakes here; you lose, you pay."

"Regrettably that was not my question." Morray seemed perfectly at ease, brushing careless strands of white from his cerulean eyes and surveying the various piles of winnings strewn over the table. "Jacks or better, or shall I ask someone else?"

The dealer blinked. "Aye, that's the game. How many you want?"

Idly the commander-in-chief tossed a single card into the center of the table. "One, thank you."

"Was poker even invented back in your day?" one of the other players joked wickedly, and the laughter intensified. "You know - back when dinosaurs roamed the planet?"

Morray looked up and offered a single, devilish smirk, then tossed a pair of twos and a trio of nines down before him with a triumphant flick of his wrist.

The laughter abruptly ceased.

"Not bad, gramps," the dealer offered in exasperation, pushing a pile of coins Morray's way. "You stayin' awhile?"

"Oh, I think I've got a little time to spare." Morray took up the deck and shuffled so effortlessly that the other players stared. "By the way, do any of you esteemed gentlemen know a fellow by the name of Lawrence Unruh?"

* * *

Wolf, however, was not having such luck at the dice table.

"Where'd you say you was from again?" asked his drunk dice partner, who was slobbering on the table and swaying over his eighth brandy.

"Daxter. I used to work at Arspace Division Four, but that lowlife Doctor Morray fired me for illegally lifting ship parts." Somehow it gave the former mercenary leader great joy to say this; he wrestled the dice from his drunk partner and tossed it. "Seven."

The dice rolled out an eight; two fours. Wolf scowled and flung a gold coin on the table in front of the opposing pair of rollers, who were cackling at his misfortune.

"Nine." Sure enough there came a three and a six; they scraped in their winnings, and Wolf glared at them through his good eye. That was the fourth straight pair they had rolled in ten minutes, and Wolf was starting to find their success more than a little suspicious.

Next he called a five, and his money dwindled to a bit more. When his opponents rolled another correct pair, Wolf drew out a small knife and embedded it in the table between one of the rollers' fore and middle fingers.

"Tell you what," he threatened icily, electric-blue eye glittering with malice. "Why don't you stop playing with loaded dice, and I won't have to cut off any fingers?"

* * *

Half an hour had passed, and there was still no sign of Celestra; whenever he got the chance Leon cast a glance over his shoulder, hoping to spot her in the crowd, but he never once saw her. He thought he might have found someone to interrogate; a weasel at least twice his age had taken the stook next to him, and was quietly sipping from a hip flask. Although it was smoky and the room was musty and hot he kept his hood up and cloak drawn tightly about his shoulders, and Leon looked at his neighbor out of the corner of his eye and shifted on his stool.

"Who rules the streets of West K'yorin these days?"

The cloaked man took another swig and didn't answer; Leon thought he was being ignored, and then his neighbor murmured, "By all accounts Lawrence Unruh, the fat fool. But some of us are smart and know differently."

Leon knew at once that he was not taling to any ordinary drunk; his manner was very coherent, and even slightly intelligent, given the nature of his speech. Perhaps he could learn something here. Leaning forward he prompted, "And what is it that causes you to think differently than the rest of Shifting Sand Avenue?"

"Instinct." The stranger reached up and tapped a raised bump in the cloak, something that could only be his nose. "The glory days of the Ten Emperors are soon to return, youngster. I am certain of it."

The former chameleon was now sitting rigid in his chair, an action that he could not force into submission. He knew precisely what his neighbor was talking about, and although most people would dismiss it as babble, Leon was far smarter. The ten men from West K'yorin who had held the highest positions on Corneria's Fifty Most Wanted five years ago had become known as the Ten Emperors, and back then Shifting Sand Avenue had held them in the highest esteem. The three months they had ruled the fugitives-at-large lists throughout the galaxy were known as the Glory Days of West K'yorin. Leon tried hard not to let his unease show and asked, "What makes you think the Glory Days will return?"

The man in the cloak turned to face Leon, lowering his voice so that they wouldn't be heard over the general din of the establishment. "There's someone new on the streets these days; an ambitious man, quick with his tongue and his weapons. they say that he's planning something big, though no one knows quite what; they reckon West K'yorin hasn't seen anyone like him since the days when fourteen-year-old Leon Powalski ruled the streets as the First Emperor."

Leon visibly blanched, but pretended to be slipping off his stool to cover the mistake. Thankfully his neighbor did not notice. Curious now he asked, "Who is this man?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, youngster. All I know is this - they call him the Rogue Leader."

Someone bumped into the former chameleon from behind, sending him forward to collide with the bar; he turned back with a horrible look on his face, but the drunk was alrady passed out on the floor. Leon turned back to his neighbor. "Where can I find Lawrence Unruh?"

"That blathering slob? He's around. Usually the stenchof stale alcohol gives him away."

A pair of enormous hands gripped Leon around the middle and hoisted him cleanly out of his chair, and as he normally did when he felt threatened the able mercenary went for his belt with weapons. They were not there. With a little cry he craned his neck and saw his belt laying forgotten on the floor, ripped by a single swift knife thrust. The cloaked stranger ws hunched over his flask again, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

"Hey there, girlie," came a drunk, slurred voice near his ear, and he was hoisted over the enormous man's shoulder and held out of any retaliatory position by an amazingly strong grasp. Leon beat at the massive shoulders with his fists at an impressive pace, but his captor never even flinched. "What's say you and me go out back and have a little fun?"

"You foul, loathesome - " Here the diminuitive mercenary let out a string of violent curse words and beat harder, growing slightly desparate despite his normally cool, unshakable demeanor. "Put me down, you disgusting - "

There had to be a weapon somewhere on his person; he would never be careless enough to place all of them on his belt! Yet even as he looked he didn't find a single knife. Next he turned every which way, craning for a glance of his comrades; Morray was pulling a great stack of coins his way, and Wolf was throwing dice. He shouted for both of them, but it was so noisy in the bar that only people within three feet could hear.

The massive, filthy drunk shoved his way out the back door and they were in a dark, dirty alley. Leon at last began to panic.

"There now, girlie," he heard the drunk say, and he was flung down upon a pile of rotting trash. As the drunk descended Leon had enough wits about him to kick him in the face, leaving the imprint of a combat boot; the drunk punched him in the face, and Leon reeled back and collapsed, barely clinging to consciousness from the force of the heavy blow.

_It's him,_ Leon thought groggily. _Oh damn, it's Lawrence Unruh. I've underestimated this fool a great deal._

"Don't worry, girlie," said Unruh lewdly, rubbing his hands together briskly. "Just be good to me."

Leon couldn't hold himself up, sinkng back onto the trash.

He was in very serious trouble.

* * *

_This isn't nearly as difficult as respectable Mr. Powalski made it sound_, Morray thought to himself, raking in his winnings again and grinning at the onlookers. _All I've got to do now is find out where Pigma and Andrew are being hidden, and -_

" - Wish I knew where Star Wolf was," the dealer was saying absently, dealing a new hand, and Morry turned himself back into the conversation earnestly. "They'd always be welcome at the Underground."

"True that," said the drunk on Morray's right, with an almost whimsical smile. "Rumor has it that they've fallen out of Separatist favor. Seems they deserted before it was all over."

"But surely respectable Mr. Unruh knows their whereabouts," Morray prompted, good-naturedly taking up his hand and studying his five cards carefully.

"He ain't got no clue," said another. "Streets ain't his no more, you know."

"I was under the impression that respectable Mr. Unruh was the lord of West K'yorin these days," Morray questioned, feigning surprise very well.

"Unruh answers to the Rogue Leader now," the dealer offered, and at that moment a half-dressed waitress appeared and handed the Arspace mastermind a shot of something green.

The commander-in-chief smiled to himself. Someone had been sending him shots periodically throughout the night, and he had yet to touch a single one. Whether they had been tampered with or not Morray did not know, neither was he keen on finding out. As he had done with all the previous drinks, he waited until his current companions were preoccupied, then tipped the contents onto the floor and placed the shot glass in front of him, making it appear as though he had drunk it. Then airily he asked, "The Rogue Leader? Who is he?"

"Nobody knows. Few people have met him," the dealer continued. "They say he operates here in K'yorin somewhere."

"This is a story I am unfamiliar with." Morray laid out four queens, and his comrades all groaned. "Tell me, what does he do?"

"Do?" The dealer barked out a laugh. "He's headin' the Rogue Separatist Uprising, you fool! Where you been?"

A few of the other card players were starting to look at him suspiciously; Morray kept to himself and acknowledged none of the stares, but shuffled a bit in his chair so that he was on the edge of his seat. "I'm a little out of the loop, I'm afraid; I was vacationing on Fortuna, and have not heard much."

"You playin' tomorrow night?" the dealer asked suddenly, and he was staring hard at Morray. "There's a V.I.P. room in the back; I could get you in."

'He knows more than he can say in front of these men,' Morray realized jubilantly. "As a matter of fact, I was planning on coming back tomorrow night. Shall I look for you around the same time, good sir?"

"That'll be fine," said the dealer, and he averted his gaze.

"You ask an awful lot of questions," said his drunk neighbor, and the others nodded assent.

"You'll have to forgive me," said Morray nonchalantly, knowing that it was far too late to smooth-talk his way out of things. "I am a rather inquisitive fellow."

"Is that so?" With no further warning, a fist came for his face.

Morray kicked at his floor, tipping his chair back and out of range of the strike. He took his feet quickly, lightly drawing out the Fortunan broadsword with such grace and fluidity that patrons well out of range flinched.

Then he was surrounded by a swarm of enraged card players, and the commander-in-chief leapt nimbly upon the table, scattering cards under his supple boots and brandishing his sword with a daring smile.

"Gentlemen!" he cried bravely, the hint of amusement present in his voice. "I will give you one chance to surrender!"

They rushed at him, shouting expletives; Morray laughed and dove at them.

* * *

Wolf was starting to get the hang of the dice game, even if he suspected his opponents of further foul play. He was now progressing without his partner, who had at last passed out in his drunked stupor and was now drooling on the floor. The winnings were about even; the ex-mercenary leader raised his fist, preparing to throw.

"Gentlemen! I will give you one chance to surrender!"

Startled, Wolf looked up, and what he saw made him groan. Morray was upon a table, surrounded by vehement-looking drunks, and he was holding his broadsword as though he were about to put it to use.

"Oh, damn you, Doctor," Wolf muttered in exasperation, and he tossed the dice upon the table and rew out a small, handheld electron pistol. "You're far more trouble than you're worth!"

* * *

Disoriented, Leon kicked out again in a desparate attempt to protect himself, but his foot met only air. His vision was so hazy that he could barely see his target; fighting nausea he fell back a third time.

Something stirred above, and a leaping figure descended upon Lawrence Unruh, latching onto his broad back and sinking a deadly switchblade into the vulnerable spot between his shoulderblades. But Unruh wasn't about to be taken down with a single strike; reaching his arm around he grabbed at the flailing, fighting figure, grasping a handful of golden-blonde hair and hurling his assailant across the alley. With a sickening crunch the blonde figure collided with a dumpster and lay there, motionless.

It was all the time Leon needed to gather his wits and strike; darting forward he took up the switchblade and ducked as Unruh's enormous fist went sailing harmlessly past. The much smaller man lunged forward with a growl, jabbing the blade into Unruh's thigh up to the handle, but this wound didn't slow his down either. The swing of a flabby arm clipped Leon's shoulder, spinning him to the damp concrete, and now his weapon was out of reach.

The fallen figure near the dumpster lurched forward then, and Leon caught the glint of another blade just before his unknown comrade slit Unruh's left hamstring. The large drunk let out a bellowing wail before collapsing near Leon, and the blonde figure was upon him at once, slashing the other hamstring and disabling Unruh's ability to walk.

Leon rolled onto his back, slightly dazed, to find Celestra offering him a hand up.

"Are you alright?" she asked, slightly breathless, and her face shone with genuine concern.

He accepted her hand and clambered to his feet, ignoring the unpleasant ache in his shoulder. "I had forgotten how dangerous this place could be. And where have you been?"

"I stayed outside to question people on the street corners." The female assassin wiped her brow with the back of her hand and replaced both switchblades on her belt. "I heard you shouting." Then, gesturing to their enormous fallen attacker she asked, "Is this Lawrence Unruh?"

"Unfortunately." Leon spat on the ground near the quivering drunk and kicked him over with the toe of his boot. "Listen up, you miserable excuse for a human being - what can you tell me about this so-called Rogue Leader?"

Celestra cocked a curious eyebrow but Leon raised a hand to stay her questions. Unruh's eyes darted between the two anxiously, until finally he said, "I don't know nothin'."

Faster than Celestra's eyes could follow Leon had whisked a switchblade from her own belt and crouched over the drunk, holding the blade millimeters from Unruh's throat. "I am a merciless interrogator, Mr. Unruh, so make this easier on yourself and comply. I can torture you, if you would prefer."

Unruh licked his lips nervously, and for the first time he seemed to notice that Celestra was a female. He offered her a lewd wink and a smile; Leon growled and increased the pressure until a single drop of blood stained the mercenary's blade. Unruh whimpered and said, "I don't know his name. Guy lives in the inner-city. That's all I know."

"You're lying." Leon's eyes promised pain. "What about Pigma Dengar and Andrew Oikinny?"

"They're . . . with him," Unruh stammered, and Leon raised himself up and dusted his pants.

"I thank you for your time, Mr. Unruh." With an almost casual flick of his wrist Leon sent the blade spinning into Unruh's jugular, and they turned away, leaving him to drown in his own blood. "Celestra, things are about to get messy. What have you got on your belt that you can spare me?"

The female assassin double-checked her arsenal. "Two switchblades, two butterfly knives, two plasma pistols."

"Give me the switchblades. Have you any idea how Wolf and Morray are faring?"

Celestra halted abruptly, hands going to the plasma pistols sheathed at her hips; Leon followed her gaze to find the other end of the alley blocked off by the group of men who could only be Lawrence Unruh's followers. "Looks like we'llhave to fight our way through, Leon."

"Splendid." The smaller mercenary took up Celestra's switchblades. "I'm only just getting started."

* * *

After only a few minutes of fighting alongside Morray, Wolf discovered someting else about the older man; he battled with a swashbuckling style that most people considered mere show. He was about to point this out with a sarcastic comment when the flashy technique drastically altered into a more aggressive attack pattern, meant only to severely injure his opponents; Wolf blinked. Morray was already swashbuckling again.

"What on Corneria did you just do!" he shouted, blasting away at their enemies with his electron pistol and forcing the closer ones back with a shattered beer bottle.

"I am a man of many talents, respectable Mr. O'Donnel!" shouted Morray jubilantly, ducking under a trio of blades that all missed their mark due to a remarkable arcing swing of his broadsword. "Five years of close-range blade combat, under the greatest instructor available - " He paused again, side-stepping a lunging attack and meeting his attacker's backside with a kick, then a little flick with the flat of the blade that sent him spinning to the ground. " - The master class, Arspace Division One!"

Wolf ogled despite the dire situation. "They let idiots like you into the master class!" One of the drunks dove at the ex-mercenary leader, and lacking the flair of his debonnaire comrade he merely smashed him over the head with the glass bottle, dropping him like a stone.

Morray rippled his cape with his right hand, just in time to turn a pair of swords that might have skewered him, and slashed both assailants across the wrists with his quickly-moving blade. "I beg your pardon? Idiots, you say? Perhaps when this battle is over you and I should cross blades, and we will see who is the idiot then!"

"You're all talk, Doctor!" The electron bullets were heating the air, so rapidly was Wolf firing. "In a one-on-one match, I'd kill you!"

"There's the old, wicked mercenary I'm used to!" cried Morray with a chuckle, trapping another sword between his own and the bar and bashing its owner in the face with his elbow. "The one who talks taller than he stands!"

Wolf turned his pistol Morray's way and fired; the Fortunan flinched, and was very surprised when the barkeep slumped over his shoulder, preparing to attack with his own bottle before falling prey to an electron bullet. "Damn," he cackled, eyes alight with playful fury. "I missed you."

Then he turned back to his targets, and Morray laughed all the louder.

The bar was starting to thin out, both on account of patrons running out into the street and patrons losing their lives; as soon as his way to the door was clear Wolf took off at a sprint. "Time to go, old man!"

"Whatever for?"

"Every thug in town will want a piece of this fight!" shouted the one-eyed mercenary.

Morray took two steps after him before he was tackled from behind; as he fell he managed to squirm around to face his attacker, and then get his broadsword up in a blocking position as a knife arced in for his face. He did not know it, but this was the same cloaked stranger who had disarmed Leon earlier. The blades inched closer to Morray's throat even as his sapphire eyes widened in surprise; this man was far stronger than he was!

Wolf turned from the door, searching for his comrade, and cursed when he saw the Fortunan's predicament. At first he considered leaving Morray to die, then he raised his pistol and fired. The blast took Morray's opponent in the shoulder, greatly lessening the force between them; taking advantage, Morray threw all his weight behind the broadsword and shoved the cloaked figure away. Scrambling to his feet he skittered off after Wolf, and the two barreled out of the Underground and into the street.

Shifting Sand Avenue was in complete disarray; all around them people were fighting in pairs and groups with various weapons, such as pool sticks and rocks. Women on street corners were screaming in fright; Celestra and Leon were nowhere to be seen. Morray whipped Wolf on the rump with the flat of his blade to get his attention, and they sprinted together away from the tavern.

"Where are we going?" Wolf shouted over the chaotic prattle.

"The Garrison!" Morray answered over his shoulder.

"You want to leave Leon and Celestra in this infernal pit!" the mercenary leader accused with a shriek.

"I would never do something like that!" the Fortunan countered, very taken aback. "But if we continue to look for them in this manner, some ill fate will befall us. At least in the Garrison, we will have a bit of protection."

They stumbled the two blocks to the Garrison, which by some miracle was still intact in its parking place. Morray leapt into the drivers' seat and jammed the key in the ignition, just as Wolf locked the doors and slouched down into the passengers' seat.

"Are these windows bulletproof?" he shot to Morray, as the Fortunan threw the gear to reverse and they spun out of the parking space.

"Ah; well . . . ." Morray cleared his throat uneasily and shifted into drive. "You may want to take that up with the manufacturers."

Wolf hastily buckled his seatbelt.

As the duo set off up the street again, Morray happened to glance in the rear-view mirror and catch a glimpse of several cloaked figures tailing them in a hovercar. Before he could say anything, two of them raised laser pistols and fired, shaking the GX-Garrison with their shots.

"What the . . . ." Morray changed lanes; their followers did the same, tailing very closely. "Who fires on a car this statuesque? It should be a felony!"

"Stay on task, old man." Beside him, Wolf was readying the electron pistol again. "Keep your eyes open for Celestra and Leon, and I'll try to take care of our little friends. For our sakes, I hope you drive as well as you talk."

* * *

"Celestra! Behind!"

Now that he was able to see straight and the throbing in his shoulder had lessened, Leon's true skill was beginning to show. If Celestra had thought the diminuitive mercenary out of his element, she certainly did not think so now; all of the street fighters together did not have an answer for the lightning-quick human, and coupled with the female assassin, they were nothing short of deadly.

Celestra turned to find another hulking figure preparing to bear down on her, and her hands darted to her belt to retrieve the tiny butterfly knives. Although these particular weapons were the smallest she owned, she was capable of putting them to devastating work; coming in low she sliced at her adversary's midsection, and her right hand came away stained red. Her left hand followed through with extraordinary speed, thrusting and turning in a counterclockwise direction to open the wound mortally.

Celestra was panting for breath now, arms at her sides, and she backed up until her back touched Leon's; this way, none of their opponents could sneak up from behind. "We're surrounded."

Leon scowled and wiped at a small trickle of blood running down his chin from a split lip. "I realize. I think I'm nearly out of fool-proof getaways for the day."

"This is a rotten time for you to start telling jokes."

"It comes with nerves. Any ideas?"

Celestra tightened her grip on her knives for a moment longer before replacing them with her plasma pistols again. Even with these high-powered blasters they couldn't hope to down them all; surely there was some way out! Suddenly Leon was moving, putting his weapons away altogether, and even as a needle of panic started turning in her brain he crossed his arms and said, "You fight well, thieves, but surely you do not harbor any delusions of murdering the First Emperor of the Glory Days?"

While the female assassin had no idea what her accomplice was talking about, this question seemed to have a great impact on the drunken street fighters; nearly all of them lowered their weapons, and a few started whispering to their neighbors. One even stepped forward and fell to his knees, groveling.

"What's going on, Leon?" Celestra dared to ask, but the former chameleon held up a hand to keep her silent.

"You don't look like the First Emperor," someone said hesitantly, and a few others gasped.

"Much has changed in five years," Leon offered simply.

"The First Emperor was a chameleon," said another, and several near him nodded in agreement.

"You're right. I was." Leon stretched a hand out in front of him, remembering. "A lot happened during my days with Star Wolf. But I am above all of you, and owe none of you an explanation. Let us through."

"But how do we know that you're . . . the First Emperor?" questioned the first breathlessly.

"Fair enough." With a shrug of his slim shoulders the mercenary lifted up his shirt; there, just to the left of his navel, was small crown tattoo branded with the number one. A collective gasp shot through the crowd. "I am Leon Powalski, and here is my proof. And tell the Rogue Leader, whoever he is, that I'm coming for him."

Then he stepped forward, motioning for Celestra to stay close, and they walked out of the alleyway, completely unchallenged.

"Leon, what the hell was - "

Celestra was interrupted by a laser bullet whizzing by her ear, and they looked down the street. The GX-Garrison was racing away from another car, with cloaked figures firing on it; a lone figure who could only be Wolf was leaning out the passenger window, answering their shots. As they watched the top rolled back, and Morray shouted to Wolf, "I've got autopilot for the straightaway!"

Wolf set down his pistol and reached for Leon, hoisting him into the car and hurling him into the backseat; Morray grabbed Celestra's hand, and Leon helped him pull her inside so the Fortunan could take up the wheel.

"Good evening!" Morray shouted to them over the wind and ceaseless laser fire. "Take up your guns, please, and aid respectable Mr. O'Donnel in silencing our quarry!"

Celestra and Leon crouched low in the backseat, readying a plasma pistol each; Wolf turned, taking aim, and Morray deftly spun his hands and at last turned off of Shifting Sand Avenue and onto the freeway.

"Who are these guys!" asked Celestra, preparing to lean out one side and open fire. "Unruh's followers?"

Leon gritted his teeth and cocked his pistol. "No chance. They're far too smart; most of Unruh's supporters don't know how to drive a car."

Together they leapt up from their concealed positions and joined Wolf in firing on their assailants; Morray, for his part, did an excellent job swerving at just the right time, so that most blasts missed their mark completely.

A well-timed shot from Celestra had one cloaked figure leaning out of the window, and Wolf was quick to fire away and strike him cleanly in the chest. The other two paid their wounded comrade no heed, but continued firing on the mercenaries in the Garrison. Morray floored the accelerator and sped through a red light, but to his frustration the opposing driver performed the feat almost exactly. Leon was aiming for the tires, but the hooded driver continued his flawless steering without fault.

A bullet intended for Celestra just missed her hand and streaked past her; Morray shrieked in pain and lurched forward, a laser hole burned into the back of his shoulder. With no one to drive the Garrison they veered left, heading for a steep ditch.

"Oh no you don't!" growled Wolf, and he lunged for the wheel, dropping his pistol and leaving the pair of mercenaries in the backseat to trade shots with their attackers. Just in the nick of time the mercenary leader cranked the wheel right, putting the Garrison back on the road, and Morray crawled into the passenger seat, groaning and squeezing his eyes shut.

"Sensenic!" Celestra shouted, and she moved to help him.

"I can't do this by myself!" Leon growled through gritted teeth.

"Help him . . ." Morray chuckled shakily, gently touching the side of her face in reassurance. "I'm alright . . . "

Her face shone with worry, but she nodded with determination and joined Leon in the backseat again, raising her plasma pistol with new purpose.

Even as she raised her weapon to fire Leon lanced away a magnificent shot, piercing the rubber of the front right tire and sending the pursuing car spinning out of control to crash into a lightpole. Leon, exhausted, slumped back into his seat.

Celestra was at Morray's side at once, tearing fabric from her flight jacket and beginning a crude bandage. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry . . . I should have taken the hit - "

"No. Never," Morray told her sternly, wincing yet offering his disarming smile. "I would never forgive myself if you were hurt and I could not help you."

"I hate to interrupt this touching exchange, but did we learn anything useful from this suicidal excursion?" Wolf put in, running a hand through his shaggy grey hair and relaxing at last as he drove.

"Someone is preparing to lead a Rogue Separatist Uprising," answered Leon wearily. "No one would give us his name, but Unruh sid that if we find him, we find Pigma and Andrew."

Morray shifted slightly and attempted to sit up, grinning broadly despite his agony. "Well, it seems that I am the hero of the hour! The Rogue Leader operates somewhere in the city, I was told, and I've met someone who might possibly know this infamous man's name! All I've got to do is return tomorrow night and - "

"Wait just a minute!" Wolf interrupted, enraged. "Are you suggesting going back to that hellhole!"

"I've got a feeling that I must attempt this alone," Morray said quietly, but Celestra placed a hand over his lips and silenced him.

"Let's just focus on getting back on KWEST. We all need some sleep, and someone from the department of medicine needs to see Sensenic right away."

No one refuted this idea, and the rest of the ride was filled with the quiet of exhaustion. But inwardly Celestra's mind was racing, for now she was certain that there was far more to Leon Powalski than she had ever guessed.

And now she was determined to figure him out.


	9. Chapter Nine, The Puppet Master of Lylat

Chapter Nine, "The Puppet Master of Lylat" 

Before Merrick saw his cloaked colleague he could tell that something was amiss; there was a noticeable limp echoing down the concrete stairs, and the heavy panting of someone at the limits of personal physical exertion. Pigma and Andrew quieted, turning their ears to the staircase to listen, and sure enough there came a single shrouded figure, gasping for air and greatly favoring his left leg.

"Star Wolf defeated you," Merrick said bluntly, more of a statement than a question.

"No, sir," came the wheezy reply, and from a fold in his cloak he produced a handful of pictures. "We were defeated by an unknown group of rebels, four in all. The small one reportedly killed Lawrence Unruh; at least thirty others from Shifting Sand Avenue lay dead in the streets."

Merrick frowned down at the picture of a diminuitive, pale human holding a switchblade. His eyes and hair were dark as midnight, his face severe. For a moment Merrick thought he recognized the man, and he blinked. 'Where have I see those eyes before?' Then he was shaking his head, skimming through the other pictures: a handsome man with white hair and a broadsword, a grey-haired, one-eyed man firing some manner of pistol, and a striking blonde female with eyes like pure jade. Flustered, he threw the snapshots across the room and stormed about angrily.

"I've never seen them before," he snapped to no one in particular, baring his teeth in a snarl. "Are they sellswords from KWEST? Decoys meant to keep us away from Star Wolf?"

"They fight like devils," the cloaked man continued, taking a seat and propping his injured leg up on an unused desk. "The white-haired one used three different sword techniques at the least, and his one-eyed accomplice downed half of the Underground using a single pistol. And the small one and the girl... they made it past Unruh and his band of crooks."

"No small feat." Merrick seemed more composed now, and he ran a hand through his thick black hair as he pondered all the news. "Did they ask any questions?"

"Yes, sir. They made it very clear that Unruh was their primary target. However, if hints of the Rogue Separatist Uprising reached their ears as the night progressed, and if they are looking for Mr. Dengar and Mr. Oikinny, they will likely investigate further."

"Let them; there is no proof to point them toward us. Even if there were, General Pepper would swear to my unwavering loyalty." The momentary uneasiness was quite gone by then, replaced by a thoughtful smile as Merrick picked up the photos again, dusting them off with the back of his hand. Pigma appeared at his shoulder and studied the pictures for a few moments in silence before pointing out slowly:

"Isn't it funny? That one with the gray hair and the gun has one eye, just like Wolf."

Silence. Merrick's eyes narrowed, and from behind them they heard Andrew stammer, "And... some girl that's good with a knife?"

"There's four of them." Merrick was frantically combing through the snapshots now, eyes widening with realization. "There's four of them. It's too coincidental to be wrong... this IS Star Wolf! Somehow they've changed their appearances, in order to move about the city without causing an uproar!"

"The executives at KWEST are geniuses," put in the shrouded figure from the side of the room. "And they've got the greatest scientific and technological minds of the age at their disposal. I'll bet they easily altered their physical selves."

"Then Star Fox will never catch them," the rogue leader continued, slightly irritated. "Unless our little friends slip up and reveal themselves, and they undoubtedly will. This is no ordinary group we're combating here."

"What shall the rogue group do, sir?"

Merrick weighed his options carefully. There was no reason to jump to conclusions yet - after all, he still boasted a significant upper hand, what with commanding a group of unseen rogues and remaining in General Pepper's highest favor. It was a good thing theat he had solved such an elusive riddle; it would have caused significant problems if left misunderstood.

But what to do in response? His first thought was to expose his newfound knowledge to the public, but he dashed that possiblity almost at once. There would arise some suspicious questions, namely how he found out, and he was ill prepared to face the press, given his current situation. There really wasn't anyone he could leak the information to; everyone was bound to show skeptism, and he couldn't afford that.

"I will not more aggresively just yet," he decided aloud. "If the Loyalist government gets involved, we could lose everything. For now, move about as little as possible. If you can dispose of them without witnesses, do it, but do not risk the secrecy of my organization, do you understand?"

The cloaked rogue rose slowly, limping for the stairs with an unsteady salute. "Yes, sir. We continue to be loyal to you."

* * *

"The Rogue Leader?" Slippy repeated skeptically, glancing to Erik in confusion. "I've never heard of him before. Is he someone the two of you know?" This last was directed at Wolf and Leon, and they shook their heads immediately.

The two KWEST executives had summoned Celestra, Leon, and Wolf to a private council chamber on the floor below their office, to discuss all that had transpired the night before on Shifting Sand Avenue. Morray was not yet present, still in the medical bay as professional doctors tended to his shoulder. Slippy and Erik sat together at the head of the table, heads in hands as they racked their brains for undiscovered clues; Wolf sat to one side, boots stacked on the table and single eye closed in thought, and Celestra sat on the windowsill, gazing out at the city below with a glossy look in her eyes. Leon leaned against the wall just beside the door, arms crossed and silent.

"Whoever he is, he's gained quite a reputation since the war ended," Wolf mused aloud, stroking his chin with one hand. "Outcasts who were skeptical to follow Andross at the height of his power speak of this guy with reverence."

"It's a bold move, whoever's making it," Leon added. "Only Reivin himself would have been able to wield such power in the wake of Andross's death."

"Hopefully when the medics release Doctor Morray, he'll have a few answers for us," Erik put in hopefully.

There came a polite knock on the door, and Jak Winchester entered, leading a stiffly-moving Morray; he looked tired and haggard, but he was very much alive. Celestra was on her feet at once, looking terribly concerned. "Are you alright? Does it hurt?"

"It's bothersome and quite uncomfortable," the Fortunan answered with a sigh, and Wolf snickered. "I've never been shot before, you see, having lived most of my life safely behind a desk, and from now on I shall try my utmost to avoid it." He sat carefully in the chair beside Erik, who patted his uninjured shoulder in sympathy. "But don't let me keep us from making progress. What have we concluded?"

"Actually, we were hoping you had some answeres for us," Slippy started uncertainly, shifting in his seat. "You had the most personal contact last night. Do you know anything else about this so-called Rogue Leader?"

Morray winced as his tender wound made contact with the back of the chair, and he answered wearily, "I was told that he heads the operation within this very city, and that was all I could garner before the entire pub challenged me to a duel. However, one of my fellow card players invited me back when it became clear that I was interesting in gathering details on the Rogue Leader, and I accepted. What we did not learn last night, I may be able to determine this very evening."

"I thought when you said that last night, you were just delirious from blood loss," quipped Wolf, sizing the Fortunan up with his single intense eye. "But you're really being serious, aren't you? You really want to go back."

"It's not so much a desire of mine than a duty," Morray corrected delicately, carefully watching Celestra out of the corner of his eye. "I've thought about it a great deal in the past twelve hours or so; what if this is our single great opportunity to discern something valuable? We may never again be this fortunate. I must go."

Leon chuckled softly to himself, and when Morray turned a questioning eye on him he said in explanation, "There's more than a little mercenary in you, Doctor. You continue to surprise me! Darkness falls unseen upon Lylat, and you continue to press forward. Your ambition is admirable." The commander-in-chief tilted his head in thanks, and the youngest mercenary added, "But let's be reasonable - you can't go back to Shifting Sand Avenue alone, especially not now with our faces fresh in the minds of the locals. I will admit, though, you are right - we could expose the identity of the Rogue Leader tonight, and that largely falls upon you."

Through it all Celestra remained silent and reserved. Morray was acting strangely as galactic morale plunged into danger; he seemed determined to rise and meet every difficulty that attempted to bar him. The man she knew would sooner work to find a diplomatic solution, one that suited the best interests of the people, and now he seemed more inclinded to take immediate action regardless of the cost. He reminded her of the Star Fox mercenaries during the second Lylat War, engaging in every battle they met along their way and never backing down.

She didn't like it. Celestra felt ashamed of herself; now it was clear why she was being so protective of him. The assassin was very unused to watching her lover gamble his life in pursuit of evildoers, and felt that if she did not stay close to aid him, harm would come his way.

"I have already come to terms with that truth," Morray was saying, but Celestra was only half-listening. "I want to go. I want to know who this bold enemy of ours is - and then I want to teach him a lesson." He was looking at her, brilliant cerulean eyes scouring her fair face for any sort of reaction, and she understood why.

He was looking for her approval. Although it pained her, Celestra knew she had to let him go. If she didn't, she would lose his respect, and more than likely his trust too.

"What time were you supposed to return to meet this informant of yours?" she asked, hardly aware that she had spoken.

"Eleven tonight, I believe, in the back room within The Underground," Morray answered immediately, and she could tell he was nervously awaiting her reaction to his decision. Would she insist on following him, when he so obviously needed to prove his worth without her? Or was she prepared to respect his need for independence, and prove to Wolf and Leon that he was an invaluable asset to the team?

"Well, you should get some rest before then!" she exclaimed, trying her utmost to sound cheery and excited for him. "It's already past midday - you'll want to be at the top of your form, with your wits sharpened!"

The smile he granted her melted her heart, and she knew she had done the right thing, regardless of her personal wishes. He needed this; watching him lay plans with Erik and Slippy, Celestra became aware of just how important this was to him. He had to prove his worth to himself, and she would only hold him back if she tried to follow now.

"Don't get your shorts in a bunch, old man," Wolf interrupted, eyeing Morray sternly. "Celestra's still got a point - no one should go wandering off to murderous taverns alone, so I'll be going along. I'll drive you in the Garrison."

"And put your greedy hands on MY vehicle! That is where I object!" Morray said, huffing comically.

"You can object until your tail grows back." Wolf was now meticulously adjusting his eyepatch. "I was known for being unshakably stubborn as a mercenary commander; you won't talk me out of it, so save your breath for your eloquent, charming comments later."

Leon stood there, utterly perplexed as Wolf started arguing his cause with the older Fortunan. 'How incredibly unlike Wolf. He's usually quite adamant about this sort of thing; why is he pushing so insistently to accompany Doctor Morray?'

He chanced a glance at Celestra and was mildly surprised. She was seated on the windowsill again, watching the two older mercenaries squabble with a pained, far away smile on her face. The expression was most unlike her; Leon wondered what she was feeling at that moment.

Gradually the biting remarks turned into sarcastic jokes, until everyone was laughing good-naturedly except the female assassin herself. She continued to watch Morray's face, so radiant and jovial that her heart wrenched deep within her chest; quietly she padded across the carpet to the door and exited without a word. Pausing in the hallway she listened to his warm voice, so excited for the endeavors to come -

Celestra started off down the hall, suddenly very tired.

Why was this affecting her so badly?

Why did she feel as though she was losing him?

* * *

Leon was deep in a meditative trance when Wolf stepped out of the shower, toweling his steel-gray hair briskly and fumbling about for his eyepatch. He didn't feel like lounging in their private quarters, waiting for darkness to fall so the next leg of the operation could commence; for some reason he was far too jittery to stay in one place, so as soon as he looked presentable he exited, leaving his friend to his contemplations.

Only when he stepped into an elevator car did he realize he had no idea where he was going, and pressed the golden button that would lead to the KWEST executive office. To his surprise (although he had seen it happen several times before), a square plasma screen melted from the wall, and an electronic female voice said flatly, "Please place your hand to the plasma scanner to verify your identity. Only authorized personnel are permitted to enter the executive office of KWEST."

He hesitated a few moments, finally outstretching one pale hand and pressing his fingertips firmly to the screen. A sensation of nearly uncomfortable cold washed over his skin where flesh met plasma, and then a green light beeped and his hand was released. The elevator jolted upward. "Good afternoon, Wolf O'Donnel. You are cleared to visit the executive office of KWEST. Please enjoy your day."

"Sentences I never expected to hear in my life," the perplexed mercenary commander muttered, studying the screen curiously. "Since when am I allowed to go anywhere without constant supervision?"

Nevertheless, he soon found himself standing in the top floor hallway, facing the door to Erik and Slippy's office, and the computerized woman had said his name... step still slightly uncertain but slowly gaining confidence, Wolf advanced and rapped his knuckles on the door before letting himself in.

"Wolf!" Slippy looked up from a holographic video he was watching. "So the fingerprint verification worked out alright?"

"Seeing as how I'm here, I would say so." Why did he feel suddenly awkward? "When did you - ?"

"Only just yesterday, while you lot were out and about in West K'yorin." The young executive chuckled a little to himself, adding, "This room never sleeps; most of the time we can't get anything done uninterrupted until sometime past midnight." Reaching out he stilled the video, looking up at the former mercenary with his full attention. "What can I do for you?"

The feeling that he had misplaced himself intensified. "...Not really anything, I just... couldn't stay in that room anymore. I feel like I've been cooped up for years." Why was he justifying himself to Slippy, who was barely even a child? Even as he wondered this he noted the less-than-trusting expression on Slippy's face. He asked, "Where is everyone?"

"Erik and Jak took Doctor Morray down to logistics to outfit him with weapons for the evening. I was under the impression that Leon was with you."

"He's in our room meditating. Most of the time I can't get a word out of him while he is - I quit trying to interrupt him years ago."

Slippy nodded, although he didn't quite understand. "Well, have you got a minute? Erik and I have something for you; it'll only take a second. Have a seat."

Wolf sat on the other side of the desk, resisting the urge to fidget uncomfortably as Slippy rose from his seat and drew close to him. He was mildly surprised when the toad carefully removed his black eyepatch, and when Slippy was only inches away he stammered, "Er... what are you doing?"

"We have a couple of employees here with a background in artificial intelligence, and when I told them about you they were very excited to finally have a project." As he explained Slippy removed a miniscule square case from a pocket of his KWEST jacket. "I think you'll find this useful; it's only temporary, until we can perform the operation necessary to give you a real one."

"Operation?" Wolf echoed, swallowing hard, and now he turned his head away from Slippy. "What are you - "

"Hold still." Before the mercenary leader could squirm away Slippy firmly grasped the side of his face and popped something into his empty eye socket. Wolf felt an odd sort of pressure, but no pain; he blinked, very taken aback, and felt something round and cool beneath his left eyelid.

"Is this what I think it is?" he asked breathlessly, and he put up a hand to feel gently with his fingertips.

Slippy sat back with a bemused expression. "It's glass. The surface was dulled to look more like white matter around the iris, and the color is pretty close to that of your real eye. Like I said, it'll be a lot better when we've performed the operation and restored your sight."

Wolf stared back at the young executive, hardly daring to believe what he was hearing; Slippy found it strange to see the mercenary commander with two eyes. "I'll be able to see again?"

"I won't lie to you, Wolf; it's a very delicate procedure. I've done all the background information and it's possible that your optical nerves will be unable to send and receive images, seeing as how you've been toting around an empty socket for several years." Slippy handed Wolf the eye case; perhaps he would need it in the future. "But there is a chance that our medical surgeons can save your vision, and you'll be able to see again. It's risky, but I figured you wouldn't mind a good risk, given your background."

With a soft chuckle, Wolf lowered his hand and dropped the case into a breast pocket. An awkward silence descended, until Wolf rose from his seat and advanced for the door; he paused, one hand on the knob, and said almost inaudibly, "Hey... thanks, kid."

Then he exited, leaving Slippy speechless in his office.

"This has been a weird day, to say the least," Wolf murmured, slowly returning to the elevator and pressing the button that would return him to his living quarters. Although Slippy's unexpected surprise had been quite welcome, he didn't really feel like confining himself within a room again; only twenty minutes had passed, he realized. He raised one hand to enter the room he shared with Leon, and heard a small, indecipherable sound from the room next door.

He pressed one ear to the wooden surface, listening intently, and heard it again. Concerned for some reason he could not understand, Wolf turned the handle and went in.

The room was dim; he allowed his eye a moment or two to adjust before stepping onto the carpet and pulling the door closed quietly behind him. Laying there on the bed furthest from the door was the crumpled, slightly quivering for of a familiar female assassin; Celestra's back was to him, but when she heard the door snap shut she sat up quickly in alarm. Wolf held up his hands defensively, and she relaxed.

"Sorry to barge in," he apologized, feeling severely out of place again. "I heard a noise, thought something was wrong - "

The mercenary leader halted mid-sentence. Celestra's eyes were unnaturally wide; the normally clear, beautiful irises were rimmed with an irritated red and puffy. Wolf moved a step closer. "Hey... are you okay? What's the matter with you?" His voice, as always, was gruff and coarse, but carried more compassion than either of them were used to hearing.

Celestra quickly wiped her eyes. "Oh, nothing! I'm fine; I just haven't been sleeping well lately, and I'm really tired."

Wolf didn't believe her for a second. "Have you been crying?"

The assassin dropped her gaze and said nothing, merely fiddled with a loose thread on the bedspread. Quite unsure of his own actions, Wolf crossed the room and sat on the opposite end of the mattress, wordlessly prompting her to confess.

"I don't want him to get hurt again," she admitted at last, and it was quite obvious that she was referring to Morray. "I felt responsible when he got shot last night, like there was something I could have done to prevent it but didn't. And I can't help but wonder - does he find me distracting? Do our personal feelings overwhelm us, and influence our decisions and actions in a negative way?" Celestra wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. "I know his feelings for me haven't changed, but I feel like I've lost a piece of his trust. I don't want to stay behind tonight, but I don't think he would respect me ever again if I tagged along when there's nothing I can do. I don't want to lose him... I..." She dropped her head into her hands, clutching great handfuls of blonde hair in frustration. "I don't know what to do. If I ever lost him..."

Celestra's shoulders racked with silent sobs, and she looked so frail that Wolf thought she might break. His throat felt rusty, so much so that he was incapable of speech, and as he had never once in his life felt the need to comfort someone he could hardly do so now. Never had he witnessed such selfless devotion from one person to another; he hadn't thought so pure an emotion existed, and had never seen any two Separatists convey such feelings. Yet again he felt awkward and fought the urge to sneak out, but for some reason he could not bring himself to abandon her in her misery. So although he took his feet and put some distance between them, he gritted his teeth and said quietly, "I swear to you that I won't let anything happen to him tonight. And... he'll thank you for this chance someday, when he understands what you've given him."

Wolf didn't know what had possessed him to say that; cautiously he backed out of the room.

"Definitely a weird day," he admitted, now more than ready to return to his room.

Celestra smiled at the closed door and dried her eyes.

* * *

"Now," proclaimed Jak, stepping back to join Erik with a pleased grin, "sure'n ya fit the part o' mercenary!"

"I like it, Doctor," chimed in Erik, patting the head of logistics gratefully on the shoulder. "It's a bit less flamboyant than before."

Morray turned a skeptically raised eyebrow on the pair of them. He hadn't minded handing over his cape - no one really weared them anymore, so he would be far less conspicuous without it - but they had also robbed him of his bolero and he didn't approve of that. Now he donned more of a black trenchcoat than anything else, and they had given him a new broadsword that didn't have nicks and dents in the blade as his previous one had. Jak had made a point of stressing that he should carry multiple weapons - "Ya never know where ya'll end up, or who ya might be fightin'", the weapons master had said - , so they had put him through several test to find a secondary weapon he might wield well. Pulling back his coat he again studied his belt, and its small, slender throwing knives that he thought closely resembled scalpels. Morray couldn't deny that he felt better equpped to handle himself should he stumble into another fight, but as far as the way he looked...

"I'm a fragment unconvinced that the trenchcoat does me justice," he told them uncertainly, and when Erik stifled a snort of laughter he and Jak couldn't help but burst into hysterics. Morray wished he were an arctic fox again, that he might have twitched his tail in annoyance. "And now I'm a laughingstock. Excellent." He held out his hand. "Now give me my hat, and I'll be on my way."

"No hat out-of-doors, Doctor," Erik told him, waggling his finger in a reprimanding fashion. "Everyone in the west part of town knows that hat from last nights' brawl, I'm sure. It's for your own good."

Morray exhaled sharply through his nose in disapproval. "Oh, as you will. But I am most certainly not pleased by this."

Just then the door to the garage opened, and in walked Wolf. Mechanics throughout the basement facility raised their eyes to watch his progress, both in awe and fear of the man they knew as the leader of Star Wolf. He ignored every stare, securing his two electron pistols in holsters at his hips; a large rifle was strapped across his back, and Morray thought he cut a very imposing figure in the dimly-lit garage.

"I say!" he greeted his comrade, watching his approach. "What is that?"

The commander-in-chief was pointing at the enormous gun clinging to Wolf's back; the mercenary leader whisked it out for Morray to see. "It's a high-frequency proton rifle - sniper capabilities for a longer range." Stealing the impressive weapon back Wolf marched past Morray and made for the GX-Garrison, Erik and Jak following closely. "Nice outfit, by the way. I suppose it was wildly popular back in the stone age."

"Oh, you're so clever," Morray shot back sarcastically. "I can heartily understand your ire, though - the world of two-eyed people must seem very intimidating to you."

Wolf threw the sniper rifle into the backseat and rounded on the older man, who was grinning at his jibe. "You know, Doctor, it's funny that you should mention my sight. Very soon I may again possess a complete field of vision, and seeing as how only half of one never slowed me down before, I would watch my back if I were you."

"Is that a fact?" Clearly Wolf's comment did not have the effect he had hoped for; Morray seemed somehow overjoyed. "Full vision? What a marvelous gift, respectable Mr. O'Donnel! I am certainly excited for you." With his usual charming smile he climbed into the passenger's seat.

"I would speak with Celestra when you return," Wolf finished, his voice a low growl that only the Fortunan could hear, "if I were you as well." As he finished he fixed Morray with a pointed, deliberate stare, and the older man guiltily averted his eyes.

"I'll do my best to get the good doctor back in one piece," called the mercenary commander to Erik and Jak, sliding behind the steering wheel and turning the key in the ignition. "But I can't promise anything!" With a chuckle of dark amusement he fastened his safety belt and shifted into drive.

They drove in silence for several miles, until Wolf had driven them through East K'yorin and onto the freeway without incident; the gray-haired mercenary expelled the top of the sports car with the push of a button, and a humid breeze spilled over the vehicle's two passengers. Wolf glanced at Morray to find him staring out the window at the city lights behind them, then resigned himself to dispelling his companion's foul humor. "What's on your mind, Doctor?"

The Fortunan's deep blue eyes snapped forward, now studying the ominous haze that polluted the section of K'yorin to the west. It seemed he wouldn't answer, then he murmured thoughtfully, "Did she seem terribly angry with me?"

"Oh, I don't know about angry. But I'm no relationship counselor."

Morray winced. "What did she say?"

Wolf set the cruise control and relaxed, one hand on the wheel, the other propped carelessly on the window. "Do you want to hear what I garnered from the conversation? She's concerned that she'll lose you now that you're falling in love with adventure. She probably blames herself for your lasershot wound as well, and pretty much thinks you find her a distracting nuisance." Morray had his head in his hand, grimacing with eery word. "Not that it's any of my business - or that I care - but is that really what you think?"

"Of course not. In fact, I feel the only reason I had any success at all last night is because she was there," admitted Morray, leaning back and closing his eyes. "I finally saw for myself why Andross feared Celestra during the war, and why General Pepper feared you and Leon, and I felt rather outdone. I'm an intelligent and modest enough man to realize that without you three with me, I would have been killed by a pub filled with raging alcoholics last night." Elegant strands of white hair were whipping against his closed eyelids, and he brushed them behind his ears. "Is it so wrong that I am possessed of the desire to prove myself, to you and to her?"

"No - it comes with the atmosphere. You have to prove yourself, or no one will respect or fear you as a mercenary. I had to prove myself to Andross more than once, and to Reivin, and even to Pigma. I pushed Leon to prove himself to me." Wolf changed lanes in order to pass an old labrador driving a cement truck. "It's just something you have to do. Everyone wonders if they're good enough. You're wondering right now. But if you walk away alive tonight, I think you'll have your answer."

Morray offered a weak smile. "You're being unnaturally helpful, respectable Mr. O'Donnel."

"Whatever shuts you up, old man." For some reason that familiar statement carried a lot less gravity than it had several weeks ago, but Wolf didn't ponder the finer points. Morray watched his ill-tempered comrade for a moment longer, then leaned back, visibly more at ease.

A few minutes later he broke the silence again. "Tell me something, Wolf."

"What do you want now?" The mercenary leader did not miss the use of his first name, the first time Morray had ever addressed him with it.

"How did you lose your eye?"

Wolf blanched but covered it well by looking over his shoulder to check his blind spot before changing lanes again. "It was seven years ago. Andross asked me to lead Star Wolf into battle for one of the lesser Katinan army bases. It was my first mission as a mercenary commander - the defenses drove us back in little less than an hour. Andross was not pleased; he lost the base, so he took my eye."

Morray seemed horrified at this revelation. "Your own employer cut out your eye? Just for failing a mission?"

"Burned it out, actually. Psionic laser. I was awake for the whole thing."

They were both severely unnerved after that, and drove the rest of the way to Shifting Sand Avenue in complete silence. When Wolf slowed to a stop just outside The Underground, Morray was looking nauseous; nervously he exited the vehicle, and when Wolf didn't move he prompted, "Aren't you coming?"

"No chance in hell." Wolf waved his hand negligently, as if to spur the commander-in-chief forward. "I hate this place; after last night I'll never set foot in there again." Now Morray was looking petrified. "Besides, this is your shower, Doctor, and I'd hate to spoil your hour of glory. You go and prove you've got what it takes to be a mercenary on my squad."

Morray turned from the car and drew a shaky, reluctant breath before taking a step down the alley. Beneath his black trenchcoat one hand was firmly clasping the hilt of his broadsword; he willed himself to keep walking. Step by step he reached the private, concealed door at the rear of the pub, and glanced back before knocking.

To see Wolf shouldering the sniper rifle, carefully covering him from a distance.

His confidence swelled; Morray raised his fist and pounded on the door.

* * *

Morray wondered what he might say when questioned of his motives, but when the heavy iron door swung open he found himself face to face with the card dealer who had invited him. He was quickly ushered inside, and a doorman immediately bolted the door shut behind him.

"I was beginning to wonder if you'd show," the man said to him as Morray studied his surroundings. The noise from the pub could still be heard, but the walls were similarly constructed of iron and therefore sounds were greatly dulled. The room was lit by four bare bulbs, and the ceiling was badly rusted from lack of upkeep. Morray's informant claimed a stool beside a worn-out table, beckoning for his guest to do the same. "Let me properly introduce myself - Zen Aldrich is my name." As he finished he extended a hand in greeting.

"...Simon Morell," the Fortunan lied after a moment's hesitation, and then his eyes were widening. "Just a moment... did you say Aldrich? The ex-ace pilot from Corneria City!"

"The very same," Zen admitted. "It's because of my previous occupation that I know your Rogue Leader, in fact."

Morray's face belied his confusion. "I'm not certain I follow you, respectable Mr. Aldrich."

"This is going to be brief and general; if this building is being watched, I'll have to get you out of here as quickly as possible." Zen was wringing his hands with worry. "The man leading the rogues in secret revolt is a veteran soldier for General Pepper at the Cornerian Army Base."

Silence. Morray could neither move nor breathe; his mind felt as though someone had plunged it into freezing water. It couldn't be right, couldn't be real -

"Mr. Morell? Did you hear me?"

"Yes." Morray sat back, inhaling sharply, and caught his forehead with both hands as a spell of dizziness claimed him. "Zen... how is this possible? How could any Separatist become so close to General Pepper? Surely the republic - "

"You're missing the entire point, Mr. Morell." The card dealer was speaking very quietly now, and Morray had to lean closer. "The republic is no wiser because the Rogue Leader is, by all accounts, a Loyalist. He learned technology under Keil Ford for three years, and then served until the general promoted him. Now he's in the basement of the Cornerian Army Base, biding his time, while dangerous allies like Pigma Dengar and Andrew Oikinny flock to his side."

"Why?" exclaimed the Fortunan, so taken aback that he could barely think. "Why would he turn from the republic to aid an empire that is all but extinct? Without Andross - "

"That," interrupted Zen a second time, "is precisely the point."

He fixed the commander-in-chief with a plaintive stare; for a moment Morray did not understand, and then he gasped in absolute horror.

"Then... there truly is a plot to resurrect Andross!" he asked, praying that he was wrong. "And this veteran, this - "

"Di'mant. Merrick Di'mant." Zen rose from his chair in fright, glancing all around as though he expected the Rogue Leader to appear from nothingness and slaughter him. "The man they call the Puppet Master of Lylat.

"And now you must go, Mr. Morell, and quickly."

He briefly grasped the ex-pilot's hand in sincere thanks, then Morray allowed Zen to usher him out into the alley.

Everything fell apart in the blink of an eye; a shot rang out, piercing the impenetrable night and a bullet embedded deeply in Zen's jugular. He fell back, clutching his throat; a second shot passed so close to Morray's face that he could feel the air disturbance against his cheek. The shooter was on the rooftop east of The Underground; a single figure cloaked in black, just like their assailants from the previoius night. There was no use taking up his sword; Morray turned and fled.

Several hundred feet away, Wolf took very careful aim through the night vision scope mounted on the sniper rifle. Slowly he squeezed the trigger, lancing away a perfectly-timed shot that eliminated Morray's would-be assassin. Even as he looked up he cursed; another pair of cloaked figures were preparing to converge on the fleeing Fortunan.

"DOCTOR!"

Morray flung himself to the pavement, affording his mercenary leader a clear shot at one of them. Wolf didn't hesitate, blasting away, but the other leapt from the roof in a position far too close for him to fire again.

As a deadly rapier flashed through the gloom, Morray rolled over and met it with his broadsword in a clash of steel. One of his combat boots kicked up and bashed his attacker in the face, offering him a chance to take his feet, and when he was steady he dove at the cloaked figure with a shout. It seemed that Morray was dreadfully outclassed, for when the rapier flashed in a diagonal sweep the broadsword was knocked easily from his hand. Wolf cried out, unable to get in a clear shot; Morray stepped within inches of his combatant, thrusting his other hand forward, and everything became quite still.

When Morray staggered back, Wolf could see three small, scapel-like throwing knives protruding from the cloaked figure's abdomen. The Fortunan picked up his fallen weapon and dove into the Garrison; Wolf floored the accelerator, and they sped off into the night.


	10. Chapter Ten, High Tension

Chapter Ten, "High Tension" 

Celestra waved to the new head of security as she stepped out of KWEST's front doors and onto the sweeping grounds. He made a point of offering her out-of-bounds protection, but she dismissed the proposition and set off toward the dark, distant treeline. She had slept from the time Wolf had left until she had heard Morray exit the private quarters they shared, and now found herself unable to lay inert. Slowly she walked across the well-tended grass, head turned upward in awe of the magnificent stars; when she reached the treeline she turned her back to it and stood gazing silently overhead.

"Good evening." Mildly startled she whirled; Leon was lounging on a beech branch ten feet about her. "What's got you up and about at this hour?"

She relaxed, even leaning against the trunk of the beech with a little sigh of melancholy. "I couldn't sleep."

Leon straightened, ever so slightly rustling the leaves near him. "You're worried about Morray." This was not a question, but an observation.

"I'm going to take a walk," she said in reply, clearly out of sorts, and she set off north along the lines of trees. The youngest mercenary let her go and returned his gaze to the heavens.

* * *

Retreating within herself Celestra walked on, straying beyond the grounds and picking her way between the various tree trunks that comprised the forest behind KWEST. So lost in her thoughts was the female mercenary that she did not sense the multiple pairs of malevolent eyes watching, silent as death.

Somewhere in the fathomless dark, a twig snapped, the onset of doom.

A black-gloved hand clamped over Celestra's mouth, and she found herself falling forward into the dirt and leaves. Only then did she become aware of the six cloaked figures pressing in around her, raising weapons.

So she bit down on the hand restraining her until its owner snatched it away, then shouted the first name that came to her lips.

* * *

A deceptively disarming breeze wafted up against Leon's face, serving to lull the relaxed mercenary to a state of near-slumber. His eyes fluttered closed; he drew in a breath that widened into a yawn, and shifted into a more comfortable position.

The trance was shattered with a desperate scream.

"LEON!"

He was at awares in an instant, vaulting down from the tree and landing catlike on the grass without a sound. A switchblade in his hand, Leon Powalski sprinted off toward Celestra's cry.

They wre easy enough to find, standing over the fallen woman and snickering with supposed victory, six in all. A wicked smirk possessed the mercenary's face, and he drew out a pistol with his other hand.

"Hey."

Alarmed at hearing a voice that was certainly not theirs, the cloaked rogues turned from their intended target and glanced all around to locate the speaker. The lights from the technological enterprise filtered through the branches of the tightly-clustered trees, but there was no one standing there. Only an adamantite pistol hovering in midair, and a deadly switchblade glinting in the dim light.

Shots rang out from the seemingly-unsupported pistol, scattering the rogues away from Celestra and dropping two of them in seconds. Then the gun discarded itself and the small blade darted forward with dizzying speed, and before the closest rogue could raise his weapon to parry, it had entered his ribcage and punctured a lung. Mercilessly it ripped away, engaging a fourth, and Celestra had already stumbled forward and claimed the forgotten blaster as her own. She rose, targeting a rogue as he attempted to flee, and shot him in the back several times until he lay motionless; by the time she had turned around the switchblade had laid her final assailant low with a single thrust.

A tangible shape slowly melted from nothingness, and Leon re-materialized from the realm of invisibility. Still it didn't seem possible, Celestra realized, and she opened her mouth to remind that humans were incapable of such things when Leon interrupted her. "Slippy caught up with me after Wolf and Morray left, and he gave me this."

He closed the distance between them and extended his right hand; there on his thumb was a silver band set with a single tiny stone, a dark and perfect jet. "It allows me to becomes invisible at will."

Celestra nodded once to show she understood, then handed back the handheld firearm. "Thank you."

"We should return to the premises," Leon informed her, wiping his blade on the cloak of the nearest deceased rogue before leading the way out of the forest. "There may be more of them about."

The youngest mercenary never once asked if she was alright, or acknowledged her sincere thanks, but he walked one step behind on her left side, wordlessly guarding the flanks.

* * *

Leon and Celestra entered the executive office to find Wolf looking grim, and Morray, Erik, and Slippy all staring at him wearing looks of complete perplexity. When the older Fortunan saw Celestra in the doorway he smiled apologetically, but she shook her head; seeing him alive was enough, and she held no grudge.

"I'm guessing you found out who the Rogue Leader is," she observed shrewdly, and Morray nodded.

"Yes, and while I can understand the difficulty of the situation, respectable Mr. O'Donnel seems to know infinitely more than I."

Leon was staring at Wolf, who was watching his comrade and friend with a deeply troubled look in his eye. The youngest mercenary was struck with the feeling that something was very, very wrong. "What the matter, Wolf?"

"I need you to sit down, Leon."

"Why?" Leon advanced a step. "Who is it? What's going on?"

"Leon... it's Merrick. He's the Rogue Leader."

Memories came flooding back to the diminuitive killer, none of them pleasant. He remembered the battle between Merrick and Reivin the very day he had arrived on Venom at Wolf's side... he could hear the clang of knives, the grunts of effort from both combatants. He remembered laying awake all that night, wondering how on Corneria he could ever hope to best the indomitable competition. He remembered his shock when, the next day, Andross himself congratulated him and rewarded him the title of mercenary.

Above all else, though, Leon remembered a gripping, relentless fear whenever the man looked at him. He realized then that his knees were shaking, and he collapse heavily into the nearest chair. "I always knew... that we would see him again," he choked out, and his tone was one of grim defeat.

"Who's Merrick?" asked Celestra quietly, watching Leon with concern, but Morray whispered for her to be silent.

Wolf pushed himself out of his chair and began pacing the length of the room; Erik began rummaging for coffee mugs. "This is a long story," said the mercenary leader through a feral snarl. "It starts nearly four years ago, when I was sent to find Leon and introduce him to Andross. Leon?"

Silence. The man being addressed seemed quite incapable of speech.

"Leon, you need to tell this story. You haven't talked about Merrick once in four years," Wolf prompted sternly.

"There's a reason for that," snapped Leon in reply.

"I'm not asking for all the unnecessary mayhem before that," Wolf corrected quickly, and he looked suddenly nervous; Celestra and Morray exchanged a curious, questioning glance. "Just start where we met. This is one story I will not tell for you."

Leon gritted his teeth, looking lost and inwardly tormented. It took a great effort for him to drag himself out of his chair, and he crossed to the window, bracing his forehead on the cool panes and heaving a sigh. It was many long minutes before he could bring himself to speak.

"Andross finally wore his nephew down, and Andrew Oikinny rather reluctantly joined the incomplete team of Star Wolf. Rumors were circulating that soon Venom's Emperor would be moving on the offensive after eight years of dormancy, but not until he had one more mercenary at his side." His listeners were already entranced by his low, monotonous voice; Leon turned from the window, looking defeated. "Renown mercenary commander Wolf O'Donnel was dispatched with a single task: comb the galaxy for a heartless, unbeatable warrior, one who would lead the Separatist empire to domination of Lylat.

"After a week of searching he found an unlikely candidate - fourteen-year-old Leon Powalski, running loose on the streets and striking fear into the hearts of men twice his age. When he invited me to Venom to work with Andross, it took a lot of convincing before he could drag me away from the only home I had known for all my life, but eventually Wolf made me see that I had nothing to lose, and nothing to leave behind.

"When we arrived Wolf took me under his tutelage, introducing me to Pigma Dengar before we heard outrageous news; Reivin Frost, Andross's only assassin, had also located a fighter, and had already introduced him to Andross. I was prepared to fight him for it - quite before I learned of the exhibition match between him and Reivin, in Venom's City Proper Coliseum.

"Wolf snuck me in to see it, and we even got pretty near to the pair of fighters. Reivin's combatant fought like a man possessed. And Reivin, who had never before been defeated, lost in front of a crowd of thousands, to a man none of us had ever met.

"I lay awake that night, dreading the dawn. I knew I would have to leave, because I was far outclassed, and the thought of returning to my previous damnable home was far from pleasant. I prayed Andross would not pit me against the man Reivin had come across, because it was clear I could not win.

"In the morning, though, the unthinkable happened: I was summoned to Andross's audience chamber, where Andross himself offered me the title of mercenary. It didn't seem possible; I spoke with Wolf upon being dismissed, asking him how Andross had found me favorable over Merrick, and Wolf told me the most unexpected thing. It seems Andross found Merrick threatening to his position of power, so threatening that he felt the need to remove him immediately. Merrick wielded far too much influence within the ranks of Andross's more skeptical, cautious followers; he probably feared a mutiny, and eliminated it before it could begin. So he was removed, and I began my tenure as one of Andross's faithful.

"But Merrick, perhaps, got wind of his removal before Andross told him, and disappeared from Venom. No one knew where he went, but Andross lost all contact with him."

Leon fell silent, brooding, and Morray shifted uneasily.

"This is the part I don't really understand," began the Fortunan, forehead wrinkled with concern. "The man I met with was a former ex-pilot for the Cornerian Army by name of Zen Aldrich, and he informed me that Merrick was a veteran soldier for General Pepper, right here in K'yorin. Perhaps we are referring to two different men?"

This last was a question meant for Wolf, who shook his head almost at once. "No - that must be what Merrick took up when he abandoned the Separatist empire. He disappeared before his name gained recognition, reappeared on the opposite side, and started patiently biding his time. While all of us were fighting a war, Merrick was solidifying his position, climbing the ranks, gaining Pepper's favor. He's so entrenched now that we'll probably never get a shot at him until it's too late."

"Lylat is in a state of reconstruction," Celestra put in. "The only figurehead active in the republic is Pepper himself; Gilraen is on the move with Star Fox, and Sensenic isn't in any position to make much of a diplomatic difference. Most of the powerful cities are in the middle of mass repair; if he strikes now and starts a war, the galaxy will fall with barely a fight."

"I can't return to the government as I am," Morray agreed with a sigh. "It will cause too much of a fuss; they will question my whereabouts over the past two weeks, and my physical appearance as well."

"Then what do we do?" Celestra asked, clearly becoming frustrated. "Wait here, until he's ready to make a move?"

"I say we attack now, before he realizes we've found him out," finished Wolf.

Erik had just finished distributing mugs of coffee, and he broke in with a statement that surprised them all. "You can't do that! Think about what you're proposing here. If Merrick is really as close to General Pepper as respectable Mr. Aldrich said, we are all treading on shaky ground. A radical Separatist only needs one threat to push him to drastic measures; if that happens, he's in a perfect position to assassinate the leader of our republic."

Slippy and Celestra were looking alarmed; Morray nodded sadly. "I'm afraid Erik is correct; a blow that strong to Lylat in its already weakened state would make the galaxy ripe for overthrow. If Merrick strikes at the general and then raises the rogues into action, we are ill prepared to combat him in retaliation."

"So there's absolutely no chance of going public with this," concluded Slippy. "The risks outweigh the result; are we in agreement of that?"

An assortment of nods and disheartened grunts wafted up in reply.

"As far as we know, Merrick, Pigma, and Andrew have no idea that we're onto them," Leon hypothesized, but he still looked unnerved. "Here's what I propose; we infiltrate the army base in secret and take care of this before he has the chance to move again."

"That plan is worse than mine!" Wolf shouted, eye narrowed. To prove his point, the mercenary leader rounded on Celestra and asked, "How many years did you struggle before you finally killed Reivin?"

Celestra blinked, slightly taken aback. "...Seven, I think. Maybe eight. Why?"

"Merrick beat Reivin in less than ten minutes," Wolf snapped, and he crossed his arms in finality. "Chances are none of us can beat him, either; at least, not as we are. We need to lay low and train ourselves until we're ready."

Morray nodded. "As much as I dislike the idea of biding our time, that sounds plausible."

"I agree," put in Celestra.

"Leon?" Wolf's voice was almost tentative. "Are you with us?"

The youngest mercenary looked up, startled from his private thoughts. He felt battered and drained, and certainly in no position to make any important decisions; he wished they would leave him alone, so he could sort out how he felt. Merrick's appearance had dredged up a well of unpleasant, painful thoughts and memories, all of which he was desperate to forget; but they were all gazing at him expectantly, awaiting his reply.

Leon grew up a little more, and he realized with a start that he was beginning to feel the strain.

"Of course I'm with you," he said, making it sound as though the question was unnecessary. "But I feel I should inform you all that I am incapable of defeating Merrick. And I believe all of you are, as well."

A quiet, uncertain knock sounded on the door, and Jak Winchester let himself in. He was carrying a folded-up section of newspaper; Erik crossed to his side, read the bolded headline, and groaned.

"As if things couldn't get any worse," he commented in exasperation, and he read aloud:

_"MISSING! GENERAL PEPPER FEARS WORST FOR COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF, ASSASSIN _

_K'YORIN, CORNERIA - The search for Commander-In-Chief Sensenic Morray and assassin Celestra Marquette has come to a stalemate in Fortunan city Daxter, where the Star Fox mercenaries lost the trail of possible allies three days previous. At Corneria's army base, Captain Gilraen Anilora was available for comment. _

_'Employees at Arspace Division Four were uninformed of Sensenic's absence, and there was no response from his office or his home,' said Anilora. 'The transmission used to contact Celestra went unanswered as well.'_

_Mercenary Falco Lombardi was similarly perplexed. _

_'Aside from a single lead that led us back here, we're no closer to finding them than we were before,' said Lombardi. _

_General Aronius Pepper is beginning to show concern for the situation, and is expected to appear before the Cornerian press tomorrow afternoon. _

_'Doubtless this is an underhanded tactic of Star Wolf, designed to shake our faith,' said Pepper. 'I have advised Star Fox to be on the alert - if Andross's old allies are found with Sensenic and Celestra in their custody, the consequences will be severe indeed. I have assurances that both the courts and jail will not show team Star Wolf an ounce of leniency'_

_Anilora was visibly less volatile. _

_'We can only pray that our allies and friends are well, and that no harm has befallen them,' said Anilora. 'Until we are certain, the Star Fox unit remains prepared to engage our enemies by any means necessary.' _

_Anilora and company remain stationed at the army base in K'yorin, waiting for Pepper's command before they move again. In the meantime, they plan to visit the elitist KWEST enterprise, to check on the progress of the Myst Alpha Arwing."_

Slippy was staring at Erik as the younger Fortunan finished, as though the bell tolls of doom had just sounded. Erik threw the newspaper onto his desk, and the two executives exploded into such a violent string of obscenities that Morray clapped his hands over Celestra's ears.

"This is what we get for letting them stay here!" Slippy shrieked in fury. "I didn't want to get mixed up in this nonsense, and now Anilora's coming here! What are we going to do!"

"They were going to come here anyway," Erik reasoned, his voice pleading. "We promised them the first four Myst Alphas long before Doctor Morray and the others arrived. There's no backing out of it now; if we do, they'll get suspicious, and we can't afford to get involved."

"But they still don't even know that we're the ones in charge here!" countered Slippy, voice rising.

In unison everyone slouched down, at last giving in to the mounting tension. Silence gripped all within the spacious office for many minutes, and a cloud of despair at last settled over their heads. For half an hour or more they sat together, motionless and brooding, until Leon stirred and made his way to the door.

"Where are you going?" Wolf called to him, and Leon turned back, face perfectly unreadable.

"I don't know," he admitted, and he seemed to be struggling within himself. "But I can't sit here anymore." With that he left, slamming the door behind him in his ire.

One by one the others filed out after him, isolating themselves to deal with the ordeal in the only way they knew how.

* * *

When Celestra returned to her private quarters, she was startled to find Morray still awake and waiting for her. Her eyes flitted momentarily to the digital clock on the bedside table; it was nearly half past two in the morning, and she was exhausted. Why was he still up?

"Sensenic, it's late," she told him wearily, running a hand through her short blonde hair. "Go to sleep; we both need our rest."

"I can't." There were dark circles of exhaustion beneath his eyelids; Celestra could tell that he was forcing himself to stay awake, though why she did not know. The handsome Fortunan rose, eyes fixed upon hers almost mournfully, and added, "Not until I've confessed something to you."

Completely oblivious as to what he was referring to, Celestra merely nodded. Morray slowly approached, reaching out to take one of her delicate hands in both of his, and he brought it to his lips and kissed it gently.

"I need you to understand that you will not lose me to the thrill of action," he informed her quietly, and at last she understood. "I just felt that I could not call myself a true member of this team until I proved myself worthy of it. Now that I have, I shan't worry you with it any longer; I know I belong now, and that I am not a detriment to this operation."

"Oh, Sensenic; I never thought - "

Morray gently placed a finger over her lips, in effect silencing her. "My dear, you must let me finish, for now I have an apology to offer you." Still grasping her hand he led her to the bed, where they sat side by side companionably, and he continued, "I fear I caused you to worry over my safety, and being so concerned with accomplishing my task I required an outsider to bring your feelings to my attention." Celestra knew he was referring to Wolf. "Often I forget that even though you are an assassin - and by far the most capable woman I have ever known - , you still feel the same cares and pains that any other woman would.

"So I apologize, firstly for tarnishing your view of me, secondly for letting you down, and, most importantly, for making you sick with worry while I was away. I will whole-heartedly understand if you are still angry with me, of course."

Celestra stared deeply into his eyes before reaching up a hand to gently stroke his cheek. "I was never angry with you; I just thought that, when you started to love the same things about life that I love, you would need me anymore."

He seemed deeply pained by her words, and he drew close to whisper in her ear, "Those things in life are insignificant to me if you are not sharing them with me. It is because of you that my life seems so worthwhile."

Then Morray cupped her fair face in his hands and kissed her, long and slow, and for a moment all their cares were forgotten.

She readied herself for bed, remembering how dreadfully tired she was, and then slipped under the sheets to wrap her arms around him. Morray kissed her again, and then they slept.

* * *

But Merrick Di'mant was not asleep.

The whole of the Cornerian Army Base slept soundly, but not Merrick.

Pigma and Andrew shored not ten feet away, and still the leader of rogues would not sleep.

His informants had not returned, and he supposed Star Wolf had slaughtered the lot of them. By now they had learned his name; even now they could be discussing how to deal with him.

But they were not fools, he knew. Likely they would stay put, safe within the walls of KWEST while Anilora and his fellows continued to prowl about for any sign of them. Certainly they would not act in open view of the public, for fear of being apprehended, or worse, spurring him into homicidal intentions. For certainly killing General Pepper was on his list.

It was risky for him to act as well, but he could manage it. So long as the general remained oblivious to his movements, there would be no danger to him or his plans.

It was still far too early to begin the rogues' siege of Lylat.

But the time was ripe for the notes of discord to sound.

The puppet master of Lylat snickered to himself, preparing to pull the strings of galactic chaos.

Now, at long last, it was time for him to move.


	11. Chapter Eleven, Leon, Undone

Chapter Eleven, "Leon, Undone" 

He should have seen it coming; as it was, Sensenic Morray was still shocked speechless when the Great Fox landed on the grounds of KWEST enterprise.

It was early the next day; Morray had risen early, met Erik for coffee, then taken the metal scanner containing the legacy of Keil Ford down to the new Arwings to discuss their capabilities. He was thoroughly enjoying himself, watching the video hologram of the obmion lasers' field tests and trading technological secrets with his late comrade. Then a voice had come over the intercom, announcing the arrival of an as-yet-unidentified cruiser, and then the majestic starship of General Pepper's mercenary squad had flown into their presence.

The miniscule, holographically-generated figure of Keil covered his face with his hands and laughed. "Bad luck, old chum."

"Indeed." Morray watched the exit hatch clank open, and Anilora stepped out leading Bill, Fox, and Falco. The Katinan captain was laughing heartily at something, his face radiant and attractive; the Fortunan commander-in-chief felt a pang of jealousy and easily discerned its source. "And of course the situation is made more difficult with Gilraen's presence, for obvious reasons."

Keil continued to giggle quietly. "You don't look good in green, if you understand me, Doctor."

"Pish. I am far from jealous," lied Morray, waving his hand in dismissal.

"That man has been in love with your girlfriend for five years or so. He's Lylat's second-in-command, handsome, selfless, intelligent, and now a mercenary for Pepper. And once upon a time, Celestra nearly loved him, too. Of course you're jealous. Anyone would be jealous. I'm seething for you. You're too kind of a man; go over there and give him a good punch in the face."

It took more than a few of Morray's best efforts to quiet Keil. "Do grow up. Gentlemen do not fight."

"But men do. So do mercenaries." The Star Fox team was drawing closer. "You're on your own, Doc," finished Keil, and the hologram blinked off.

Morray cursed under his breath and stoically moved to meet them.

"Captain Anilora, I presume!" he greeted warmly, extending a hand and shaking the Katinan's with vigor. "Yes, of course it is you! The pleasure is all mine! I am Simon Morell, chief technician of this enterprise and primary engineer of the Myst Alpha Arwing."

For a horrible moment, all four Star Fox mercenaries gazed back at the Fortunan-in-disguise, and Morray thought they would easily see through the humanoid ruse. Then a smile spread across Anilora's face, and he returned the handshake with equal sincerity. "Well met then, Doctor Morell! We have watched this business grow into a reputable enterprise with great interest. Let me introduce to you my colleagues - Fox McCloud, Falco Lombardi, and Bill Grey. We are here, as you are probably aware, to see the new Arwing you have created."

"Of course." Morray shook hands with the others, exchanging a few quick words of salutation before leading the group toward the Arwing Erik and Slippy had created with Keil's expertise. It took all the self-control he could muster to stay his panic, and to keep his face even. When they had halted and were staring admiringly at the magnificent prototype, though, anxiety of a different sort claimed the commander-in-chief: As he wasn't the creator of the Myst Alpha, he was not well-versed in its capabilities. Seeing no help forthcoming, he settled his nerves and decided to improvise, hoping he had at least retained the gist of his conversations with Keil.

"As you can see, the Myst Alpha is in its own class of interstellar war spacecraft," Morray began unsteadily, working hard to appear nonchalant. "Outwardly the most visible modification is the addition of a third engine, which, as you could rightly guess, increases the Arwing's speed a - er - considerable amount." The pause had been accidental, of course, but rather telling - he knew the engines increased the speed, but he could not recollect just how much!

Predictably, Anilora cleared his throat and asked politely, "And how large is the percent of increase, Doctor Morell?"

A faint glimmer caught Morray's eye, and he used his peripheral vision to study it; Keil's holographic image appeared, flashed the numbers one and five with his fingers, and de-materialized just as quickly as he had come.

"Fifteen percent," he replied shakily, and one of Bill's eyebrows shot up at the obvious uncertainty quavering within Morray's voice. "Yes, fifteen percent, and a reputable and admirable leap in the world of space technology, I must say! But the most amazing development is that of our newest laser compound, the obmion wavebeam. Advanced capabilities in firepower enable it to blow up a star."

"Have you got a videotape of the field tests on hand?" asked Fox offhandedly, glancing about.

Morray was struck quite dumb by this question, and he was positive it showed in his expression.

"Because of course we'll need to see it, and the written verifications from the Arspace officials who witnessed the procedures," Anilora put in, now eyeing the Fortunan commander-in-chief with a calculating and almost suspicious glance. "I was assured all of these things would be prepared prior to our arrival..."

There was a terrible moment when comprehension dawned on all of their faces, and then a smooth voice lofted up from across the hangar: "I've got everything on hand, Captain Anilora; we won't take up too much more of your time, I assure you."

Turning on trembling knees Morray locked eyes with a cool-eyed Leon, whom he had never been so happy to see in his life. The youngest mercenary carried several official-looking documents and an unlabeled videotape; when he had closed the distance between them he extended a hand and clasped the Katinan captain's in a firm handshake. "Lawrence Palinski; head of stealth coordinations. I had a hand in the Myst Alpha's cloaking and shield attributes. The head of chemical research will be along presently, to better explain the capabilities of the obmion wavebeam - in the meantime, let's take a look at the field test video, shall we?"

Morray was relieved and even a bit shocked. Leon had played his role so perfectly that even Falco Lombardi, who had long harbored a personal vendetta against the former chameleon, had not recognized the monotonous, cool, indifferent voice. As he looked on, the youngest mercenary inserted the tape into the nearest video player, all the while elaborating on Morray's general presentation of the KWEST Arwing.

" - And here is the written verification of a successful field test," Leon finished tonelessly, presenting the Katinan captain with the document, "signed by all twelve officials who witnessed the procedure. If I'm not mistaken, all protocol has been met?"

Anilora gave the Arspace document a shrewd once-over before saying, "Everything appears to be in order, Mr. Palinski."

To Morray's amusement, Leon gave a derisive little chuckle and murmured, "There will be no need for formalities, Captain; it is my pleasure to help deliver these prototypes to your noble cause. I would be honored if you called me Lawrence."

It was with genuine sincerity that Anilora said, "The pleasure is all mine, Lawrence," And then his kind violet eyes strayed to a point over Leon's shoulder, beyond Morray, and his face rapidly paled. A similar affliction seemed to have come over Bill; curious and concerned, the others turned to see what demanded their undivided attentions.

Standing there, flawless alabaster face softly brightened by a few pale rays of silver sun, was Celestra Marquette. She looked stricken, speechless; her now-green eyes were fixed upon the Katinan captain at the back of the group, and for many moments there was only a tense, reverberating silence. Looking at her, with her beautiful eyes overbright with emotion, Morray knew without a doubt that something lingered there in her heart; it struck like the clearest, most bittersweet note of a bell. She was still in love with Captain Anilora.

The intensity was shattered none-too-soon by the arrival of surly Wolf O'Donnel, who was polishing a massive rifle the other Star Wolf mercenaries recognized as the same weapon Jak Winchester had greeted them with. "Oh, excellent, we're all here," he muttered flatly, glancing furtively at his long-time nemesis Fox McCloud before turning his eyes upon the Katinan captain. "Welcome, Captain, I am Wesley O'Connor, the assistant head of logistics under Jak Winchester. This is Catherine Marxley, our primary laboratory correspondent from the department of chemical research; she and I have labored over the construction of the obmion wavebeam for many months, and the results were far better than expected, as the videotape shows." He gestured to the still-animated television screen, which was still displaying the field testing at Arspace Division One. While the Star Fox team watched raptly, Wolf shouldered Celestra in the back to break her from reverie; more than once Anilora glanced back at her, but she kept her eyes trained straight ahead.

Leon had to admit that he didn't care much for the situation; even a clever disguise couldn't fool perceptive Anilora when it came to Celestra, and he was fairly certain that if she spoke at all the captain would put two and two together. They simply could not afford to be discovered, not now that they knew Merrick was at the root of such a potentially dangerous conspiracy, but he could not think of a way to alter his comrades' voice. Even as he considered this she began to speak, and he braced himself for the uproar.

"The obmion wavebeam is intensely complex, primarily because the final product was largely derived from a psionic laser that only one living being has ever possessed - Andross. We used the reports filed by Celestra Marquette and Fox McCloud - " she inclined her head to the vulpine, who smiled at her " - to begin mixing possible chemical components together in the first attempts to produce a similar effect. The earliest tests were far from successful, but thanks to a highly-qualified medical department, none of them were fatal."

Her fellow mercenaries could scarcely beliee their ears. She had altered her own speech patterns! The difference was not a highly drastic one, much more subtle and simple; her tone was slightly higher in pitch, and she used a perfect Fortunan accent. Morray looked relieved, Wolf casually indifferent; Leon grinned slightly despite himself.

"When I had finally concocted a compound worth testing, I presented the prototype to Jak Winchester and Wesley O'Connor, who immediately began trying to filter it into a weapon with destructive capabilities. After countless weeks of failure, we three succeeded.

"As I'm certain Doctor Morell has already informed you, the obmion weapon compound has the ability to blow up a star, whereas its predecessor, the adamantite laser, is only able to destroy all of Lylat's constructive materials. While I'm certain your search for Star Wolf will not lead you to demolishing Lylat, I'm sure this newest weapon will make your task decidedly easier."

"Will this weapon be modified to create personal weapons?" Fox asked, still gazing wonderously at the playing video.

It was Wolf who answered. "Permission to do so rests with the Cornerian government and Arspace Division One; we have recently appealed to them, and we're waiting for their response."

Bill collected the videotape from the player and and tucked it into his flight vest. "With tests like these, you'll have no trouble earnin' the grant."

Anilora stepped up to Morray and shook his hand warmly, though now his face seemed troubled and shaken. "You are doing us a great favor, Doctor Morell; I wish somehow I could repay you."

Morray did his best to smile disarmingly, though inwardly he couldn't help but wish the other man ill. "We consider it our greatest honor to aid the general's mercenary squad in delivering these dangerous fugitives to justice. You are always welcome here, should you need our assistance again."

A few spacecraft assistants hastened to move the four Myst Alpha Arwings into the underbelly hangars of the Great Fox; the Star Fox mercenaries lingered a few moments longer to thank them, then they trooped aboard their cruiser and lifted off, bound, no doubt, for the Cornerian Army Base.

* * *

Merrick was one of many upper-class veterans present at the landing site when team Star Fox returned with the prized new KWEST Arwings. He was, in fact, standing at the side of General Pepper, who greeted Captain Anilora genially and led him through the crowd toward the base. Squaring his shoulders, the veteran followed at a respectable distance, though his keen ears still caught every word of their murmured conversation.

"Did you meet with the executives?" Pepper inquired quietly.

Anilora shook his head, but did not seem dispirited. "I'm afraid that we did not, although I can say with full confidence that KWEST was well represented. Doctor Simon Morell greeted us, and the Myst Alpha was well-presented by Lawrence Palinski of stealth coordinations, Wesley O'Connor of logistics, and Catherine Marxley of chemical research. All required documentation was handed over; Bill has it, should you wish to see it."

Behind them, Merrick ground his teeth in frustration and annoyance. Simpletons. The four representatives of the KWEST executives could only be the elusive mercenaries of Star Wolf.

"Then KWEST should be granted our unwavering support and confidence?" asked the general, still in hushed undertones.

"Yes," agreed Anilora at once. "Doctor Morell in particular seems very down-to-earth and dedicated; I was personally impressed with Miss Marxley, who is perhaps the most intelligent chemical researcher I have ever been acquainted with. If the executives chose to represent their enterprise with such fine technicians, they themselves must be nothing short of extraordinary."

Merrick mulled this last bit over in his mind silently. More gifted than Sensenic Morray, the man Lylat had long since christened the Arspace mastermind? Without legitimate proof he would never have believed it, yet there was no denying the superior caliber of the new Myst Alpha Arwings. He cursed to himself; surrounded by such powerful and influential allies, the Star Wolf mercenaries would prove difficult to touch indeed.

"And did you ask them about Star Wolf?"

"While I was speaking with Doctor Morell, Fox questioned Mr. Palinski; he said that KWEST has only heard what the K'yorin Columnist has reported, and nothing more."

"I expected as much." They had reached the general's office; Pepper opened the door and gestured for Anilora to enter. "We can discuss this further in my office." Then over his shoulder to Merrick he said, "Thank you, Merrick - that will be all."

The door was shut in his face, and the rogue leader scowled at it before turning on his heel and marching off down the hall. There was no point in eavesdropping by the door, as he sometimes did; occasionally Fox or Bill would discover him lingering there, and he was sure they were now looking upon him with suspicion. It was prudent that he remain as dismissable as possible, and for the present that meant hiding out in the unused basement classrooms where Pigma and Andrew resided in secret. He treaded the familiar path down a few flights of stairs to the gloomy, dank cellars to find his two charges asleep in their respected shadowy corners, and he settled into his familiar worn chair to be alone with his thoughts.

The small reconnaissance group he had stationed in the forests surrounding KWEST's grounds had been slaughtered; a single scout had completed a full circuit of the perimeter on his orders and returned with the ill news only a few hours ago. The killing blows found on the corpses were reminiscent of small blades, and he largely suspected Leon was responsible for their deaths, possibly aided by Celestra. He had figured they would not hold long should they cross paths with Star Wolf; in fact, their deaths were really quite helpful.

It proved that someone was lurking about outside KWEST during the night - possibly alone.

Merrick allowed his chin to drift forward onto his chest, and his eyes fluttered closed. Here at last was the opportunity he had been waiting ever-so-patiently for, for if someone truly was wandering around in the dark, the rogue leader meant to pay them a visit.

* * *

The individuals that comprised Star Wolf spent the majority of the day alone and brooding. Wolf haunted the department of logistics alongside Jak, who seemed thrilled to share his endless weapon and combat knowledge with a mildly interested audience; Morray kept to the engineering grounds, where he occupied himself with talking to Keil. Celestra stayed in the room, mulling over Anilora's unexpected arrival; Leon, however, had other plans. Having been approached by Fox he went straight to Erik and Slippy's office, where he relayed the day's happenings to the attentive executives.

"It could have gone a lot worse," Slippy admitted, leaning back in his massive chair and surveying Leon calmly. "They could have exposed all of you; instead, there was just a minute's worth of anxiety. Don't worry about it."

"You said respectable Mr. Anilora recognized Celestra at first?" Erik piped up, looking over at them from where he stood at the window. "That isn't good news... maybe we should alter her appearance entirely?"

Leon shook his head and crossed his arms. "It wouldn't help the situation; they've already seen her once. What if he returns one day and asks to speak with Catherine Marxley? If she looks differently than the first time, we can hardly present her to Anilora. It will arouse too much suspicion."

"That's true." Slippy settled all four chair legs back on the rug with a dull thud. "And I suppose we've avoided any major complications... I say we just overlook this as a close call and carry on. Thanks for keeping us updated, Leon."

The youngest mercenary knew Slippy meant well, but there remained a barely-suppressed stiffness in his voice that rather irked Leon. He remembered their bitter rivalry of not so long ago, and realized he was still somewhat reluctant to accept that they were fighting on the same side from here on out. Somehow he managed a curt nod to acknowledge the attempt at thanks, then he turned and strode from the room.

Twilight was descending upon Corneria as he stepped out of KWEST's magnificent front doors and set off slowly across the lawn. A faint sliver of ivory moon was glimmering mysteriously amidst the occasional wisp of iron-gray cloud, bathing the grass underfoot in palest onyx. Leon fiddled absently with the jet ring adorning his thumb, ees turned upward as he studied the few stars already visible in the deepening night sky. Corneria's days were swiftly on the wane, leading to longer and chillier nights; it was these sparse moments between summer and winter that he truly enjoyed, for a comfortable evening was the ideal setting for sorting out one's thoughts.

Leon hoisted himself into the boughs of his now-familiar beech tree, at once beginning to brood. It had indeed been a narrow escape from the clutches of Captain Anilora today, so close that even cool, collected Leon had felt a certain sense of panic. Had it not been for some quick thinking on Celestra's part their clever ruse would have been foiled and their identities known, a concept almost too horrible to comprehend. Everything, their very lives, now hinged upon their ability to remain unknown to the people that mattered, and if any one of the major players ever found out -

"Isn't it a big dangerous for you to be out here wandering about at night on your own?" came a sudden question, and Leon's nerves seared with surprise. He leapt nimbly down from his lofty perch, and came face-to-face with Merrick Di'mant.

"Good evening," came the malicious whisper, enough to make Leon feel a tiny stab of what could only be terror. Despite this he did well to mask the oncomings of fear, and seeing this Merrick chuckled softly to himself. "I take it that, since my presence did not completely shock you, you are more-or-less aware of my plans?"

Leon mastered himself, very glad he still had his customary belt of weapons still strapped firmly around his waist. "More than you would like, I'm sure. What brings you here, Merrick?"

His brain seemed numb, as though unable to grasp what was happening. For all their talk of plans and courses of action, here it was; the first confrontation with Merrick, the Rogue Leader. Nothing could have prepared Leon for this moment; he likely would feel the same had he known it was coming. Most unnerving was the fact that his nemesis stood there quite calmly, almost casually, surveying him with a hungry sort of interest, and he realized with yet another uncomfortable jolt that it was the same expression he had been wearing the last time they had looked each other in the eyes. It was a look of loathing, of malice, of confidence.

Merrick uttered that low, bemused laugh again. "I just thought it was high time to see who haunts the forests of KWEST, killing off my forward scouts. I also thought, seeing as how you survived your encounters upon Shifting Sand Avenue, it would be useful to start picking off team Star Wolf now, before you grow from mere irritation to threat." He set off, picking his way through the trees, and said, "Walk with me, Leon."

For some reason, the mercenary felt compelled to obey, quietly following Merrick deeper into the forest. He noted how the older man had exposed his back to him without any concern; he was not even holding a weapon. He knew that Leon had either too much honor to stick a knife in his spine, or not enough courage.

Leon himself wondered which it was, but either way his hand did not move for a weapon.

"I have great plans for the future of Lylat, Leon," he began, with the air of one who was about to reveal something grand. "Times have changed since the fall of Andross; the Loyalist regime grows strong and prominent again, while the Separatists have been reduced to rabble. The concern upon the Cornerian governmental body is that of bringing Star Wolf to justice, and while they are worrying themselves over that I have much more leeway to move.

"I came into General Pepper's service with the intentions of dispelling Andross from power - he did, after all, exile me from Venom - but I soon changed my mind. I am a Separatist through-and-through, despite allying with the Loyalist empire to achieve my ends, and so I decided instead to wait until Andross's defeat to move again. Four years later, my patience is rewarded; the throne of Venom is vacant."

"You knew Andross would fall?" Leon pressed skeptically with a scoff. "How?"

"Because he had already fallen once to James McCloud," said Merrick simply. "He was bent on vengeance all through the second war, and neglected the traditional rules of galactic domination. Seeing his inevitable failure I waited - now my time is here.

"Thos still faithful to Lord Andross will rise when I command them to, and we will take Lylat with hardly a fight. My followers swell the ranks daily, and by now occupy every major technical and political society - every division of Arspace, the Cornerian Army Base, the KATI embassy - with the exception of the crown jewel, KWEST enterprise. It has already begun. I must only operate in the shadows for a while longer, then I will be free to lead Separatist society back to dominance - and resurrect Lord Andross."

Leon knew very well why Merrick was bringing all of his plans to light, but he forced the possibility into an unused crevice of his brain. They stepped into an ovular clearing, completely bathed in misty-white moonlight, and Merrick turned to face Leon with that unsettling expression of hunger and interest upon his pale white, sunken face. Eyes the color of polished nickel gleamed, greedy yet patient, in their owner's sockets; he looked dead, a vampire cloaked all in mystery and shadow, and yet somehow able to draw breath and still very dangerous. He was no longer feigning amusement, though; quite the contrary, he seemed much more thin-lipped and severe. Leon's hand twitched spasmodically for a weapon, but he sublimated the reflex before the conflict could escalate to blows. Then Merrick spoke again.

"I will leave the choice to you, then - leave this galaxy of your own free will and never return... or suffer the consequences you willingly bring upon yourself should you choose to remain."

Leon could feel his face contorting into his customary look of cold fury, and he felt suddenly bold in the face of such overwhelming odds. "I have an obligation to Star Wolf, and our objection is to stop the rogues from taking Lylat and Andross returning to life." Then he said it, quietly, malevolently, with every trace of threat he could muster despite his unease. "I would rather die than surrender without a fight, Merrick."

"What a coincidence." The blade was out, so quickly and effortlessly that it could have been an extension of his hand, and Merrick's face was chalk-white with hatred. "Death just so happens to be the consequence of which I spoke. And now you will fight me, Leon Powalski, and we shall see once and for all who is the better."

The Rogue Leader came at him hard then, and Leon barely had time to grope for the twin switchblades at his belt. He was forced to dance to one side in a less-than-graceful dodge just to bring his weapons up before him in a defensive maneuver, then Merrick was there, testing every block, driving through every parry in his search for the smallest weakness. For the present Leon beat him back, keeping to a non-offensive style of battle, and contented himself with avoiding any severe lacerations.

Merrick pressed ahead with a combination of flawless quick-stepping and blindingly-repetitive thrusts, and Leon had to work increasingly hard just to keep his feet under him lest he fall and be slashed to ribbons. Steel rang against steel, and every time Merrick's daggers clashed with the adamantite ridge of Leon's switchblades diamond sparks rent the air. Merrick's face was steel, neither furious nor caring, and with every block Leon become more aware of the knot of nameless fear curling within his stomach. His nemesis, miraculously, seemed to be gaining momentum with every strike, and next to such otherworldly strength Leon felt frighteningly mortal.

Suddenly he stepped inside, drastically halving the distance between them, and to compensate Leon dropped his right hand to turn the blade out wide. As he did this he thrusted ahead, but Merrick batted this feeble attack away, rolling his wrist right over and turning the parry into a sidelong sweep. Feeling they were still too close Leon stepped back, turning his hips to bring himself out wide to avoid the attack; Merrick reversed momentum in a kind of graceful pirouette and arced his leading arm down, utterly nonplussed when Leon foiled that attack too. His trailing arm came in more slowly in a feint to bring his leading arm back into a beneficial position; Leon ignored the obvious feint and parried the stronger attack in a perfect display of grace.

Far from bested, though, Merrick came in strong again with a double thrust-low combination that had Leon stepping backward to battle at a better angle; both switchblades snapped down in an X-formation, catching both his opponent's daggers before they gouged his midsection. But Merrick's foot was set in a wide stance, and Leon tripped and stumbled away several steps before righting himself again.

The hardest swing yet sang against Leon's twin weapons; to save his fingers from the shock he stepped backward yet again to absorb the force.

His leading foot bumped the trunk of the tree behind him, and he realized with a sickening lurch that he had been expertly herded to this point.

Merrick led with the double thurst-low yet again; the cross-down parry predictably met it, and he swept Leon's arms out wide, so wide the now panic-stricken mercenary could not hope to block another attack.

Slash. The first strike caught both of Leon's wrists, and the switchblades fell from his hands.

Slash. A strong thrust pierced the mercenary's feeble attempt to block his face with his forearm.

Slash. The final attack slit Leon's exposed midsection cleanly open, and he fell to the ground, vision already darkening.

As casual as could be Merrick Di'mant turned away, melting back into the trees as easily as a specter of death, leaving Leon Powalski dying in the clearing, blood burning black beneath the silver rays of baleful moonlight.

* * *

KWEST security did a sweep of the grounds at regular intervals after dark, and Jak Winchester passed near the treeline with a fellow scout. As he was passing he heard a nondescript rustling within the trees, so slight it might have been dismissed as a breeze rippling through the forest. Jak lifted his head a bit higher, eyes narrowed as he sniffed the air; everything was calm and still, and there was no wind. Signalling to his partner Jak led the way into the silent forest, unaware that the disturbance in the leaves was Merrick leaving the premises.

They picked their way quietly around trunks and over twigs, careful to keep their steps light and soundless, rifles held in a ready position. Jak stepped into the clearing first, blinking rapidly to adjust his sight to the sudden bright moonlight.

To find Leon sprawled facedown in a pool of dark blood, still, cold, and unmoving.

Jak flung his gun to one side and dashed to the fallen mercenary, fumbling with a handheld G-Diffuser as he knelt right down and rolled Leon over. "Security breach!" he shouted into the receiver, already wrestling out of his jacket and frantically attempting to stem the still-seeping blood flow. "Secure the perimeter and lock down all entrances! Alert the executives, and get a medical team prepped for surgery! Hold any unauthorized visitors - no one comes in, and no one leaves!"

The head of logistics gestured to his partner, who hastily removed his own jacket and flung it over Leon. Through it all the mercenary never moved, and his face remained cold and white as death.

* * *

Wolf burst out of the front doors in a blazing fury, attempting to fight his way through eight armed security guards, all the while screaming and swearing at the top of his lungs. Celestra was close behind, face pale with anxiety, though she did not lash out as the mercenary commander did.

"Let them through!" shouted a high-pitched voice, and the hulking guards parted in droves to let Slippy and Erik through. Wolf sprinted out into the darkness, Celestra at his heels; Morray hurried forward beside the executives, squinting through the confusion.

The tall figure of Jak Winchester materialized out of the gloom, closely tailed by his scouting partner, Leon Powalski draped limply in his arms.

Wolf took one look at his companion, the only friend he had ever known, and erupted into a wild fit of rage. "What's happened to him! What the hell happened to him!"

"Come quickly, Jak!" cried Erik, flanked on one side by Slippy and on the other by Morray, with a large group of security guards maintaining a tight protective semicircle around them. "There is a medical squad standing by!"

"Merrick!" shrieked Wolf, wild, rolling eyes piercing the murky darkness. "Merrick! Come out here, you damned coward! I won't let you get away with this! You'll pay for what you've done, I promise you!"

It took the combined efforts of four KWEST security enforcers to get Wolf under control, and when they had done so they had to drag him across the lawn, up the stairs, and back into the enterprise building, all the while enduring his flailing fists and kicking feet. Similarly Celestra had to be escorted inside, for she refused to budge from her spot and had even drawn a weapon, eyes staring angrily in the direction of the forest.

The procedure was excruciating and tedious, and KWEST did not sleep all that night. At one point Leon was formally pronounced dead on the surgical table, only to be declared still living half a minute later. And when the chief medic announced that Leon would not live out the night without an immediate blood transfusion, Wolf instantly stated that they shared the same blood type, willingly strapped himself down, and volunteered for the procedure. And after many exhaustive hours of worrying in the waiting room with tired eyes and shaking hands, the chief medic emerged again from the emergency rom and revealed that the transfusion was a success, and Leon would live.

He looked frighteningly pale as he lay there upon his sterile white sheets, half-covered in bandages and breathing shallowly yet regularly. Wolf would not allow himself to be taken out of the room to sleep, and he, Celestra, and Morray waited at Leon's side until the sun finally rose. At daybreak his eyes opened, and in them there existed such an acute fear that Wolf felt a single tear of hate traverse his cheek in remorse.


	12. Chapter Twelve, Bargains

Chapter Twelve, "Bargains" 

Dawn cascaded down upon the Cornerian Army Base, alighting upon the windows in hues of amber and gold and brightening the sweeping grounds. Crouched low upon a hill overlooking the back entrances and exits of the military complex was a single figure, poised and completely still, intense eyes fixed upon a pair of glass double doors as though waiting for someone to walk out at any moment. In fact, stony-faced Wolf O'Donnel was waiting for Merrick Di'mant - with an adamantite sniper rifle balanced steadily upon his shoulder.

It was many days following the attempt on Leon's life, and the event had a separate impact on each mercenary of Star Wolf. Celestra spent much of her time in the executive office with Erik and Slippy, divining new and inventive ways of infiltrating the Army Base without getting caught; Morray was spearheading the campaign to approve the use of the obmion wavebeam for use in smaller, handheld weapons. But the change was most prominent in Wolf, who spent the majority of his gime at the swiftly-recovering Leon's bedside. When he wasn't in the company of his friend he was to be found in the logistics department with Jak Winchester, where he was being tutored in the uses and purposes of every single weapon in the grand KWEST arsenal. The mercenary commander slept little, training far into the night in his tunnel vision to exact revenge on Merrick.

This day, fully a week after the attempted assassination, marked the return of Wolf to the real world, and then only because of a request Leon had made to him: "Don't give him the chance to attack anyone else."

Wolf had taken the plea to heart; here he sat, ever-vigilant and unmoving, steadfast in his ultimate goal: put a stop to Merrick, whatever the cost. It struck him quite suddenly how like a Loyalist he had been acting of late; he now hunted men he had previously shared views with and traveled alongside two of the most active Loyalists in all the Lylat System. He sighed, resolving to convince himself that it was all purely a means to an end.

There issued a small, almost inaudible click behind him; Wolf cursed silently and became very, very still. Then the air was full of high, mirthless laughter, followed by the words, "This is ridiculous! I have been aware of your presence for over an hour now, Wolf. Now turn around so we can discuss this, and leave your sniper on the ground there."

Having little choice left to the contrary, Wolf slowly laid the sniper rifle in the grass and rose, turning his back on it and facing Merrick in the rosy pre-dawn sunlight. The Rogue Leader was holding a laser pistol cocked and ready and a smile of simpering superiority on his pale, drawn face. Wolf, for his part, did well to remain silent, but he did not throw up his hands in surrender.

"So the famous Wolf O'Donnel at last shows himself at my doorsteps," Merrick began, clearly enjoying himself. "What a pleasant surprise. I assume you're here because of my little run-in with Leon?"

Still the mercenary commander chose not to gratify the taunts with any sort of response, and Merrick felt a certain surge of victory - until a cool gun barrel rested on the back of his neck and Wolf showed the ghost of a triumphant grin. "Let's just be havin' ya drop yer own weapons, then, ya think?" came a rough Katinan voice, and Merrick wasn't fool enough to disobey. The previously-concealed Jak Winchester kicked the Rogue Leader's weapons out of range, then melted out of sight with a nod of acknowledgement to Wolf. Merrick couldn't help but chuckle. "I can see that you're really serious about this. Very well, then. Let us begin."

Wolf crossed his arms, almost nonchalant as he tilted his head to one side. "I know all about your personal beef with Leon, but I feel obligated to let you know that if you pull anything even remotely close to what you pulled last week, I'll paint your forehead with the laser sight from every gun I own. I'm pretty sure I'm up-to-date with what you've got in store - not just for Leon, but for Lylat too - and before this goes any further I want the full story."

Merrick did his best to keep a greedy glint from his eye; just what was Wolf insinuating? "Are you saying that you're considering joining me?"

"Maybe." Wolf's face was sharp and severe, yet smoothly unreadable; in fact, aside from appearing threatening he seemed utterly calm. "But like I said, I want to know everything before any more decisions are made. And no games. It's the truth, and we strike a deal - or you can expect my shadow to follow you to hell."

"Very well," Merrick said again, this time with a mite of uncertainty to his tone. "Shall we move this discussion to a more private location? Say, Riva's? It's a coffeeshop a mile or so south of here. Be there in an hour."

The Rogue Leader turned on his heel, leaving his weapons discarded on the hilltop, and a shiver traversed Wolf's spine. Now at last he understood that he was dealing with a pro.

* * *

Wolf waved off Jak's offer to accompany him to Riva's telling the logistics expert to instead return to KWEST where he was less likely to be reported as missing. An hour later the seasoned mercenary leader stepped into the cozy coffeeshop alone, unarmed save for a miniature electron pistol holstered to his lower back beneath his flight jacket. Merrick was already waiting for him, seated in a corner near the back of the shop with a still-steaming mug of cappuccino on the table in front of him. Wolf took the seat opposite the Rogue Leader, ordered a latte, and fixed Merrick with a look that clearly stated they should dispense with the subtleties and move on to business. Merrick obliged almost immediately.

"What do you know?"

"Not enough." This was said in truth; Wolf studied his hands in his lap, mastering his thoughts. "Leon won't talk to me. And I know that if he hasn't said a word to me, he hasn't said a word to anyone."

Merrick nodded in understanding, swilling the contents of his mug with a thin stick of cinnamon and studying Wolf's face carefully; he seemed to be collecting his thoughts, deciding on how much of the truth to reveal. At last he dropped the stick back into the frothing cappuccino and settled back in his chair, saying, "I envision Lylat quite differently than any other, Wolf. I am in contact with the majority of those Separatists who survived the initial purging of the galaxy, and with Pigma and Andrew at my side I've even got some leverage for mistakes."

Wolf felt his face contort into a feral snarl. "I get it. The only reason you took them in is because you needed a couple of disposable scapegoats to cover your tracks."

"Precisely." The Rogue Leader smirked wickedly. "I know just as well as you do that Pigma is loyal only to money, and Andrew is a leech who will attack to anyone strong enough to protect him. Being so well-entrenched beneath General Pepper, I have both. They will do my bidding until I no longer need them.

"But I am only a stepping stone in the path to total domination. I can get rid of Pepper whenever I choose. I can raise an army of thousands whenever I feel the time is suitable. I have more power and influence than even you can imagine, and it's all to bring Lord Andross back to life, and back to power.

"However, a single problem remains - you and your new mercenary squad. I must say, you should be commended for choosing your comrades - the First Emperor of the Glory Days, General Pepper's number one assassin, and the commander-in-chief Arspace mastermind. I consider you to be one of two things - either my most admirable adversary, or a valuable partner."

A waitress delivered Wolf's latte; the former lupine sipped slowly and calmly, thin wisps of steam wafting up against his face. "Okay. What do you want from me?"

"A few things, all doable even in your position, I assure you. The first is to help me smuggle a few rogues into KWEST, so I can continue the recruitment process; the second is to deliver Sensenic Morray to me."

Wolf returned his mug to its saucer with a clatter; Merrick raised a single suspicious eyebrow. "Morray? What do you want him for?"

"Simple - the man is a genius. He can engineer weapons and spacecraft for a rogue army, not to mention he knows the identities of the KWEST executives. Not only that, he would make a valuable hostage should things turn ill for me." Merrick set to stirring his cappuccino slowly again, never taking his eyes from the mercenary leader. "But if I know you, you'll have very little trouble giving him up. After all, you're only working with Marquette and Morray because you have no other choice, am I right?"

Silently, Wolf evaluated the situation. Merrick had a good point; he was very well entrenched and surrounded by dangerous allies who had nothing to lose. There was little doubt that Andross would reward anyone with a hand in his revival, and Wolf and Leon would be well taken care of. All it would take was the betrayal of his two other companions. Wolf straightened in his chair, and Merrick looked excited, until -

"Sorry." Merrick's face fell at the word; Wolf's eyes were closed, and he was speaking quietly yet clearly. "Maybe everyone's right; maybe I'm getting soft. But Leon and I already decided that we would rather die than watch Andross return from the grave. And whatever you think you know about me is a lie - Celestra and Morray aren't just allies anymore."

Wolf rose, downed the rest of the foaming latte, and started away. It was only when Merrick laughed out loud that he turned back.

"I didn't think I could sway you, Wolf. In fact, I would have been disappointed if I had. That's why I told Captain Anilora where to find team Star Wolf before I left the Army Base; I'm sure he and the rest of Star Fox are en route to KWEST at this very moment. You'd better hurry."

With a loud curse, Wolf sprinted out of the coffeehouse; Merrick chuckled and ordered another cappuccino.

* * *

Wolf had returned to the Garrison at light speed, huffing and puffing as he revved the engine and pulled into the busy K'yorin traffic. While he waited impatiently for the stoplight to turn green he dialed the frequency number for KWEST, shouting into the audio transmitter, "Slippy, Erik, you there!"

"What seems to be the problem, respectable Mr. O'Donnel?" came Erik's voice, and he and Morray appeared on the screen together.

"You had better hope I never discover you making away with my vehicle, respectable Mr. O'Donnel," Morray warned airily, but the mercenary commander cut him off with a feral snarl.

"Listen to me, both of you! Round up Celestra and Leon, and get Paradox prepped for departure. I just left Merrick and he said Anilora and Star Fox are headed for KWEST; we've got to leave the planet."

Erik's mouth gaped but he slouched out of view to locate the others; Morray stepped closer to the G-Diffuser, face dangerously pale. "But Wolf, if we leave now... Aronius... Gilraen... so many unsuspecting men's lives will be placed in jeopardy with our absences..."

"It'll be no better if we're caught here!" shouted the former lupine, blazing through the inner-city and at last shifting onto the moderately-busy freeway. "It doesn't matter now - Merrick's probably told them enough, and I'm sure they figured the rest out on their own. If we sit around we'll be arrested and convicted and executed! And even if we're not - with us out of the way, there will be no one left to stand up to the rogues!"

Morray seemed to be coming to terms with the situation, although it was clear by his expression that he did not wholeheartedly agree. "If they catch up to us in the air... you don't suggest that we fight them, do - ?"

"We won't have a choice," Wolf heard Leon say, and his comrade shifted into view on-screen. "Anilora's orders will be to order a surrender, or apprehend us by force if we refuse. As neither you nor I have any intentions of giving up, Wolf, we must fight them if they find us."

"I'll have Arwings moved into the cruiser's docking bay," came Slippy's voice from across the room, but Wolf interrupted before the younger executive could exit.

"Under the circumstances, I think you and your little friend should come with us. If Anilora discovers that you've been housing dangerous fugitives in your enterprise, the pair of you will be arrested too."

"Me and Erik, leave!" Slippy shrieked in a voice quite unlike his own. "But we can't... there's no one else who could - "

"Leave Jak in charged until it's safe to come back!" suggested Celestra in a very harrassed tone. "Slippy, you can't stay here!"

The toad's shoulders sagged. "You're right, but I - "

"I'm back!" Wolf cried, and even as he said this Jak waved the mercenary into a vacant hangar in the underbelly of Paradox. As he leapt from the Garrison and sprinted out into the sunshine, he caught a brief glimpse of four strange Arwings before the hangars all clanged shut in unison. He and Jak sprinted inside, where they collided with a frantic-looking Erik.

"We must make haste!" insisted the arctic fox, and he ushered them back the way they had come, just in time to see Morray straightening his wide-brimmed black bolero and Celestra strapping on her belt with weapons. Slippy and Leon joined them in the foyer, the former looking positively distraught; as a group they hurried out to the waiting cruiser, whose engines had already been warmed by KWEST personnel. Jak bid his superiors good luck, and the landing pad withdrew into the cruiser's underside.

"The skies are clear," Leon announced, and Wolf increased the engine output until they were soaring away from Corneria and had entered deep space. Immediately the bridge was filled with accusatory voices.

"What are we supposed to do now!" Celestra shrieked at Wolf. "Where do we go!"

"Whatever our decision, we'll hardly be in a position to defend our fellows should Merrick attack," Morray added irritably.

"Let's all try to think," Erik pleaded, exasperated.

"Shut up, all of you," Leon interjected, arms crossed in a defensible fashion across his chest. "I think getting rid of the cruiser following us would be job one."

They all turned in horror to see the Great Fox streaming through deep space behind them; Slippy lost his head completely and burst into tears. Erik placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder, though his eyes, too, were fearful, Wolf pounded at the controls, willing the little Fortunan cruiser to outrun their enemies; Morray wrung his hands fretfully, and Celestra looked over at Leon. Curiosity turned into horror when she saw the look on his face, for it was one of deadly hunger, an expression she had not seen him use since the days when they had fought against one another as adversaries. And then, quite before any of them were suitably prepared, a voice crackled to life over their G-Diffuser system.

"We know you're in there, Star Wolf; this is Fox McCloud of the mercenary unit Star Fox. Shut down your engines and surrender, or we will open fire on your cruiser."

Trembling with rage, Wolf snarled and moved to reply. "Stand aside, Fox; things are happening that you don't understand. And even if this was just another day, you can't really expect me to roll over and play dead, can you?"

At the helm of the Great Fox, the younger mercenary leader glanced sidelong at Captain Anilora; the man's face had tightened in confusion and puzzlement at Wolf's words, and questions floated half-formed in Fox's mind, too. Was his bitter rival bluffing, or was there really something of importance occuring that they knew nothing about? As if to answer them, Falco crossed his arms and ruffled his feathers in irritation. "What a load of crap. Don't listen to him - those scumbags would do anything to get away."

Suprisingly, Bill readily agreed. "I say we just skip the negotiations and shoot 'em now. Nobody would miss 'em, and that way there's no chance they'll escape."

Anilora shook his head, violet eyes ever-thoughtful, watching the opposing cruiser carefully as they pursued. "The general gave specific orders to bring them into custody if at all possible, so that is what we must try to do." He edged closer to the helm and spoke into the communication device. "We have no desire to attack you, unless you refuse to comply. If you shut down your engines and come along quietly, your lives will be spared - you have my word."

"Your word doesn't mean anything to me, Captain Anilora - giving up now just means we'll be delaying our deaths. Pepper will give us the death sentence and have us all executed in public. Besides, Star Wolf doesn't surrender to anyone. If you want us, you'll have to shoot us down." Wolf issued the command for the Arwings to prep, glancing around at his teammates; Leon seemed monotonous and indifferent, as he usually was before battle; Celestra looked worried, and Morray appeared to be fighting nausea. "We'll settle this in the sky."

The Katinan captain hung his head, at a loss; Fox sighed and turned to his wingmates. "That's it, then. Let's deploy the Myst Alphas and do what we've got to do."

Aboard the Paradox, Wolf was marching down the hall to the docking bay, Leon in his customary place at his commander's right and one step behind; Morray and Celestra followed slowly, dragging their feet, clearly doubtful. When they reached individual spacecraft hangars, though, they were surprised by what they saw: four spotless, shining Arwings, a model quite unlike any they had ever seen.

"What the hell - ?" trailed Wolf, obviously skeptical, until Morray took one step forward and explained.

"These are the prototypes for the newest KWEST model of Arwing, the Myst Beta; over these past many weeks I have been volunteering my expertise to Keil's memory data, and Slippy and Erik have been hard at work with the engineering process. Although they are only prototypes to the final result, they should be suitable for battle against the Myst Alphas."

"Unbelievable. Those two aren't completely useless." Wolf gave the new prototypes a once-over, then issued his orders. "Celestra, you're the better flier - Bill is your target. Morray, do your best with Anilora."

"You can't expect us to fight them," Celestra protested weakly, looking defeated. "Bill is my best friend, and Gilraen - "

She abruptly quieted, cheeks flushed; Morray was scowling deeply to himself, and Leon was watching the female assassin with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. Wolf was adamant. "I'm in charge of this operation, and I do expect it of you. If you want to put a stop to Merrick, we've got to get away from these guys first."

Wolf was almost shocked when Morray came to his aid. "We must repel them. If we are apprehended, no one will be left to oppose Merrick."

The look she gave Morray in answer was filled with venom; emotions hectic, anger mounting, the four mercenaries of Star Wolf boarded their personal spacecraft and ejected from the four open hangars, falling into a 1-2-1 formation on Wolf's command and pressing forward to meet their challengers.

Fox's voice crackled to life over Wolf's intership communications system. "Last chance, Wolf. Agree to shut down your fighters, and we'll give you all the protection we can offer."

"I don't want your favors or your protection, Fox. I've got enough to handle at the moment without you uninformed amateurs picking fights with the wrong people." Then, to his fellow pilots, he was flatly, "Fire at will."

Having been stuck in a hospital wing foir quite some time, Leon was the first of the eight pilots to make a move. He maneuvered his Arwing around Wolf's to strike quickly at Falco (always his designated target), but the avian was an excellent flier and not unused to sudden attacks; a swift barrel-roll around Fox had the pair soaring free from the pell-mell group, now chasing one another recklessly and trading hasty shots. At a word from Fox, Bill darted from his position at the rear and tore up the center toward Wolf, and was cut off by a dazzling roll by Celestra, who seemed to have come to terms with her role in the battle. Wolf nodded once in the direction of her spacecraft in silent thanks before turning his sights on his rival mercenary leader and firing with abandon.

In fact, they were all so busy trying to stave off their opponents' attacks that no one noticed Anilora and Morray, whose Arwings hovered, immobile, facing one another.

Anilora could not begin to make a rational reasoning for why he hadn't attacked, or at the very least gone on the defensive. Fox had told him prior to launch that he would be up against Andrew Oikinny, by all accounts the least capable of the four mercenaries, but surely the nephew of the late Tyrant of Lylat would not hesitate to take a shot at the captain of the Loyalist empire? Although his primal side urged him to open fire, some unnamed force gripped him and stayed his hand; in his own cockpit, Sensenic Morray was experiencing similar thoughts.

"My dearest captain and friend," he lamented softly to himself. "Why do you not attack? Surely you understand that you must, for I cannot take up arms against you. Yet even as I say this you make no move against me! Can you possibly suspect the truth? How many innocent lives might we save together if I revealed to you the grand scheme?"

Wolf's craft swooped near, Fox hot on the pursuit, and as he passed the former lupine shouted "Damn it, old man, get a move on! You're made of tougher stuff than this!"

"Alas," murmured Morray, and with a heavy heart he took up his Arwing's controls. "I cannot tell. Your life might well depend upon my ability to keep silent. May you find it in your heart to forgive me one day."

He squeezed off a couple of shots, jostling the left flank of Anilora's fighter; the sudden aggression jolted the Katinan captain from his sudden moment of realization, and he returned fire.

But Anilora was not the only man experiencing doubts; running parallel to his intended adversary, Bill was also thinking suspiciously. He had been briefly exposed to Pigma Dengar's particular style of flying in all his years as an assassin, and he was certain at once that whoever he was battling now was not Pigma at all. Fox had him under the impression that Pigma's skill with an Arwing was limited, but this was far from true as far as his opponent was concerned. Quite the contrary he was hard-pressed, even outclassed, and that knowledge served to unsettle him.

Falco tore by, lasers firing madly, and cursed when Leon barrel-rolled sufficiently to deflect every shot. An acrobatic U-turn had the diminuitive mercenary spiraling back toward Falco; the avian executed a somersault, and Leon sailed past. But the first turn had been a feint only, as Falco came to understand as Leon turned again and collided heavily with his nemesis, wingtips razing long, angry gashes along one another's spacecraft.

"Damn you, Powalski!" Falco howled, watching, enraged, as the shield gauge of his Arwing was abruptly halved from the impact. As he passed, though, he was afforded an open shot at the rear of Wolf's fighter, which he took. The former lupine muttered a curse but continued his flight away from Fox, who was pursuing closely and aggressively.

Thus far, neither Anilora nor Morray had been particularly active in the scuffle, but in a split second that changed completely. Bill cried out suddenly as one of his wingtips ignited and burst into flame; Anilora narrowed his eyes, heart swelling defensively for his friend, and mercilessly opened fire on the enemy he thought was Andrew.

But who was actually Celestra.

Morray heard his lover scream over the private intership channel that Star Wolf shared, and the sound was more than he could bear. Abandoning all morals and principles he tightened his grip on the Arwing's controls and attacked the Katinan captain, eyes aflame. Anilora spun, accepting the volley stoically as he turned, and now he and Morray fought angrily with every ounce of skill they could muster.

It was nothing short of a nightmare, and for a moment Celestra merely stared, spellbound and horrified as her friends fought each other. As she hovered there, at a complete loss, Anilora turned on her and fired again, narrowly missing her left flank.

She did nothing, only dropped her hands from the spacecraft's controls, leaving herself completely vulnerable. Only a few hundred feet away, Leon glanced over and witnessed her predicament.

It happened all at once, before he had even given it a single thought; Anilora fired, Celestra gasped, and Leon rolled his spacecraft in front of Celestra's, taking the blows. The others all converged at once, firing blindly; face perfectly blank but eyes reflecting intense inner rage, Leon launched several shots that imploded the engines of Anilora's Arwing. Everyone abruptly stopped moving.

"Nobody move," the youngest mercenary said smoothly, lasers warming as Anilora hovered helplessly before him, "or this battle becomes fatal."

The tension mounted to its highest yet, and although his life was in danger, Anilora could hardly believe what had just happened. Teamwork had never been high on Star Wolf's priority list, and suddenly taciturn, cold-hearted Leon Powalski was taking hits for one of his wingmates? It was completely unprecedented! But it seemed that only he had noticed, for the others were anxious and silent.

Wolf cleared his throat almost delicately and spoke pointedly into the open aircraft channel, "Leon, now really isn't the time."

"I do think we were forced into this situation to begin with," Leon spat back instantly. "It seems threats are the only chance we have of keeping our lives."

"Turn off your weapons, Leon," came the surly mercenary commander's order, and his tone was one of steel.

There was silence for many long minutes, and then Leon spoke again, quietly and venomously. "Board your cruiser and go back to Corneria, Star Fox, and I will let your dear captain live. Refusal to comply will result in his death."

Bill reacted immediately, cursing loudly and angrily through the communications line; Falco was similarly enraged, shouting "You damned coward! Let him go, now!"

Celestra and Morray were watching Leon, horror etched, ultra-defined, on both their faces; Wolf looked away, dreading what might happen. Fox pondered the situation quickly, the feeling of fear very real and acute in his chest, then heavily dropped his hands from his Arwing's primary controls. "Don't shoot, Powalski. If you promise not to open fire, we'll power down our weapons and retreat. Deal?"

The Star Fox mercenaries could not believe their eyes when the fires of neon lighting the lasers of Leon's Arwing sputtered and went out. "Then take him and go. And I would advise you not to hunt us any longer - many things have changed, and you do not know what it is you are attempting to disrupt. Now, go."

They did not need telling twice; together the four Loyalist mercenaries soared slowly back to the Great Fox, but not before Fox muttered mutinously, "This isn't over, Star Wolf. You win today, but remember this - we'll put you behind bars one day."

* * *

As soon as they had safely docked their Arwings, Falco and Bill erupted into such a magnificent string of expletives that Fox could only stare. Their vehement protests echoed off the walls for many minutes, cursing the fact that Star Wolf had eluded them again, until they noticed Anilora standing far removed from the group, gazing out an ovular window, watching the strange cruiser bearing their rival mercenary squad away to the northwest. The shouting died away abruptly.

Slowly they trouped obediently to his side, carefully silent as the captain sorted his thoughts, and then, quite unexpectedly, he shook his head and chuckled in disbelief. "My God... is it really that simple?"

And motioning for the others to follow, the Katinan captain led his companions swiftly out of the docking bay. Anilora's stride was long and quick, his face intense, his eyes burning; the others exchanged a curious glance, asking wordless questions, but held their tongues and hurried to keep up.

He led them to the briefing room of the mercenary cruiser and motioned for them to sit before pacing up and down the room before them; Fox signaled for ROB, the ship's AI, to brew coffee for the lot of them, and then watched Anilora. The man seemed agitated, as though something had occurred just under his nose and he was irritated for missing it, and when they all sat with steaming mugs of freshly-brewed coffee before them he at last turned to speak. "That wasn't Star Wolf," he began thoughtfully. "At least, not completely."

There followed a stunned silence. Falco ruffled his feathers again.

Anilora had resumed his pacing, but was speaking offhandedly too. "It makes perfect sense! Their behavior..." He had the look of a man who has just received a great deal of information in a very short period of time, and then he stopped and turned to them, triumphant.

"Gentlemen... I do believe I have just made sense of all these strange happenings in Lylat. As outrageous as my assumptions may sound, please do not interrupt until I have finished.

"We have just witnessed a behavior quite unlike the Star Wolf we know, have we not? Wolf was more unwilling to fight than I've ever known him to be, Leon took hits for a wingmate, and Leon did not kill me, though he had ample opportunity to - "

"They're just tryin' to trick us!" Bill blurted out, and Anilora fixed him with a cold glare.

"You would think, wouldn't you? But does that explain the drastic differences in Pigma's and Andrew's flying techniques? Does it also explain why neither Pigma nor Andrew never spoke?"

Bill opened his mouth to protest, but Fox cut him off, saying, "...I don't believe it! You're right. I never heard either one of them speak!"

"Precisely. That is because the other two pilots were not Pigma and Andrew."

"Then who - ?"

"We've been remotely correct all along. The wreckage of Star Wolf's cruiser was found near the camp that Sensenic had set up on Titania during the colonization process. The engines had been tampered with, correct? They boarded Sensenic's cruiser and probably followed him back to Daxter. If Wolf was telling the truth when he said that something is happening, and it was something truly unbelievable..."

Anilora cut himself off, shaking his head, and started again.

"Celestra was near there at the time - Sensenic may have spoken of her, perhaps - and she is more aware of the galaxy than anyone. If they approached the pair of them, she may have seen reason to aid them. If that's true, they would have decided to leave the planet and go into hiding; aiding criminals is treason, and Sensenic would be very aware of that. So perhaps they were not captives at all - perhaps they went along of their own free will."

"No, they wouldn't - "

"There's no way - "

But their protests were feeble and without any true conviction; Anilora continued, speaking more quickly now.

"But if Pigma and Andrew were not about... ah, I see. There must have been a mutiny within Star Wolf, yes, of course! And the tip-off we got today about them hiding out in KWEST... how could we be so blind! Don't you know? Who else has been missing all this time!"

Fox gasped and covered his face with his hands. "Oh my God, Slippy! Slippy's been gone for months! He disappeared one day without even telling us - "

"And Erik Nioxin disappeared, too, because of the death of his brother," continued Anilora. "And the only family he knows is Sensenic - of course! Erik and Slippy must be the executives who own and operate KWEST enterprise!"

"And of course they'd listen to Morray and Celestra..." mused Falco, and they were all catching on now. "So that was them... we were so close, and we didn't even know..."

Anilora was standing at the window now, his face pained as he gazed out at the stars. It was a dangerous situation indeed, and while he was a rational man he knew that General Pepper would be quick to jump to conclusions; regardless of the situation, he would order the deaths of Wolf and Leon, and insist 'til the end that they had brainwashed or kidnapped Celestra and Morray.

After all that had happened during the second Lylat War, Anilora knew that he would not have the capacity to just forgive and forget, but one thought gave him pause: he knew Celestra, better than he knew even himself, and knew also that she would never enter into an alliance with two of her most hated enemies unless the alternative to not doing so was something horrible indeed. And with the whole galaxy in a state of unorganized reconstruction, even the slightest problem could result in disaster. Similarly, Sensenic Morray, as Commander-in-Chief of the Loyalist empire, had far too much honor and loyalty to betray that which he believed in.

Something terrible was about to happen.

"Here is what we must do," Anilora began again, sounding weary yet resolute. "This information must not reach public ears, and we cannot tell General Pepper what we have discovered today. The inner workings of Star Wolf may save us all from unknown peril, and if that is the case we must not disrupt it. I have little doubt that the general would execute Wolf and Leon on the spot, merely because the public demands it in recompense for all the destruction cause in the war. We must keep their secrets and their silence, and pray that they will deliver us from the evil plots we know nothing of."

Fox, Falco, and Bill exchanged a glance, all looking overwhelmed and even ill. They didn't doubt Anilora's wisdom for a moment - countless times he had done such things, and in dangerous times, to the benefit of all - but the enormity of the situation was highly unsettling. Withholding information on the workings of Separatists was a serious matter, and their reputations, their lives, would be at stake for doing so.

But their trust in Captain Gilraen Anilora was far greater than their fear, and silently they entered into a secret alliance to protect Star Wolf.

* * *

The mood within the Fortunan cruiser Paradox was decidely more volatile. Wolf fumed all the way to the briefing room, and when they had all filed in behind him he whirled around, snatched Morray by the collar, and pinned him roughly against the wall. "What the hell was that, Morray! I say shoot, you shoot! You don't sit there and wait for him to figure it out!"

Showing a rare fury, Morray shoved Wolf away from him, face sour. "You cannot demand that I take up arms against a friend and superior! I fought defensively - there is nothing more I can offer you, respectable Mr. O'Donnel, and if you ask more of me I will not give it."

Wolf was taking advantage of his stockier build and his slightly taller frame now, but Morray wasn't backing down. "If they realized who you are, they'll turn us in to General Pepper! It'll be your fault when we're all convicted of treason and conspiracy, and then sentenced to death! Do you want to be responsible for that happening to her?" As he finished he jerked his chin in Celestra's direction, jaw set and firm in his fury.

Morray's face had tightened; they had never seen him so angry. "How dare you bring Celestra into this? How dare you even attempt to use me as your scapegoat?" His fists were curling and uncurling at his sides. "This is no folly of mine, and I will not accept blame for your cowardice!"

Snarling in rage, Wolf planted his feet and plunged a fist deep into Morray's stomach; Morray, though certainly taken aback, did not crumple, but broadened his stance, cocked his right fist, and punched the mercenary commander squarely in the jaw. Both stumbled back, panting for breath, eyes filled with pure contempt, and their feud was momentarily forgotten when both realized that while they had been quarreling, Leon and Celestra had left.

"You were going to shoot him!" the female assassin was shrieking hysterically, tailing Leon closely as he stalked toward his private quarters. "You were going to kill Gilraen!"

Leon ground his teeth in an attempt to subdue his mounting anger, and somehow managed to keep silent. Celestra would not allow herself to be shut out of his room, following him in.

"I thought you were changing!" she continued, clearly frustrated. "Aren't they on your side? Don't you want to stop Merrick?"

"Of course I do," Leon muttered back, voice dangerously quiet. "But the number of casualties I inflict along the way means nothing to me. Gilraen's life... Sensenic's life... they are all forfeit. I will stop at nothing now."

Celestra was trembling with barely suppressed rage. "And my life? Would you kill me, too?"

"Do you mean to oppose me? If you do, then yes, I would put an end to you."

"What did he do to you?" she exclaimed, trying in vain to make sense of it all. "What happened to you, Leon? Why did you end up... like this?"

Leon's eyes flashed dangerously; she had his full attention now, but that was far from a good thing. With a voice like poison he whispered, "What did you just say?"

"Whatever happened to you doesn't matter!" she pleaded, seeing that she had gone too far. "I might be able to help you... just tell me what happened to - "

His hand darted out, clamping around her neck and tightening like a vice; Celestra batted at his arm with her fists, but Leon would not budge. "Don't talk about things you don't understand. I chose to be this way, and make no mistake. Whatever happened in my past has only made me stronger, and taught me that people are not to be trusted. That is why I am loyal only to power - anyone can betray you, and everyone will."

As calmly as though he had done nothing out of sorts, Leon released Celestra's neck and dropped her remorselessly to the floor. there she gasped and choked, clutching her sore throat, and watched hazily as he turned his back on her.


	13. Chapter Thirteen, Nexxus

Chapter Thirteen, "Nexxus" 

"I know how Star Wolf can get a shot at Merrick," said Jak Winchester to Erik and Slippy a week later, and he had their undivided attentions at once.

The two executives and their mercenary companions had flown cross-galaxy to the planet Zoness, a celestial body under mass repair from toxic waste damage, a by-product of a Venomian waste plant set there during the second Lylat War. On prompting from Erik they had touched down in capitol city Vega, where Arspace Division Three was headed by Katt Monroe, former protege to Keil Ford. It was easy for the mercenary squad to gain her trust; she greeted them warmly (for everyone had heard of the obmion laser compound by now) and offered them places to stay within the complex. The two executives (though Katt was unaware that they ran KWEST) were granted full access to everything in the facility, and the obmion compound team of Wesley O'Connor, Lawrence Palinski, Simon Morell, and Catherine Marxley were on leave to move about freely.

Faithful to no end, Jak was in touch with his superiors several times daily to convey general happenings within the technological enterprise. He had joyously read them the front page of the _K'yorin Columnist_ the day after their run-in with Star Fox, which stated that the Separatist mercenaries had once again eluded capture but revealed nothing incriminating to their secrecy ("Anilora's dumber thanI thought," Wolf had scoffed). Since then they had been keeping a low profile and waiting on tenterhooks for any strange happenings, praying Merrick would not be given ample opportunity to strike in their absences.

Erik and Slippy exchanged a glance, hoping against hope that Jak's idea to get at Merrick would not involve the mercenaries breaking any laws or killing mass amounts of people. In response, Jak held up a silver invitation trimmed with handsome amber, bearing a starlit image of -

"The Amber Spire?" asked Slippy, edging closer to the G-Diffuser screen and squinting for a better look. "That's the capitol building in Nexxus, Katina's capitol city."

"It's also the one-hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the day the Amber Spire was built - tomorrow," Jak informed them, rifling through the invitation's contents. "This came late last night - Anilora himself wants the team who constructed the obmion laser to attend, and requests the executives too. It's a pretty fancy deal - everyone who's anyone will be there."

"Including high-ranking veteran soldiers like Merrick," Erik added, stroking his chin with one hand. "I would assume this to be a formal occasion, Jak, correct?"

Jak gave the invitation a once-over. "You bet. Dinner and a ball, eight tomorrow night. Think they'll be up to it?"

Slippy shrugged, unable to answer properly. "I hope so. Things have been pretty tense since we got here; MOrray and Wolf aren't really on speaking terms, and Leon has been acting strangely since Merrick attacked him on KWEST grounds. I think they're all starting to figure out that they're not safe anywhere."

"If there is a chance that Merrick will be there, we have no choice but to make an appearance," Erik told his comrades slowly. "I am certain that respectable Mr. Powalski would not hesitate to confront him again, regardless of any apprehensions he may be feeling."

"Send us the invitations, Jak; we'll get something figured out. Until then, contact us if anything else happens." Slippy reached out and darkened the screen; turning back he paused mid-stride, for Erik was standing quite close, a smile something like a grimace on his face.

"Do you realize that if William and Keil were here, they would have already taken it?" he murmured delicately, and in his hand he held carefully a pair of glass phials, stoppered to keep their hazy silver-white contents from spilling. "It's time, Slippy. We cannot hide here at Arspace Division Three any longer."

Slippy heaved a great sigh, feeling suddenly tired. The two executives rarely spoke of Keil and William; it had been barely over half a year since their deaths, and the wounds were still fresh. He eyed the phials warily while saying, "But what happens when we get involved? Everything we've worked for will be a stake, and if someone figures out that we've been harboring two of the most dangerous fugitives in the galaxy - "

The arctic fox laughed softly, ending his friend's half-hearted protests. "Does that really matter anymore? If I have learned anything since Doctor Morray brought Wolf and Leon into our lives, it is that classifications mean nothing. Merrick is a veteran soldier very close to General Pepper, but he could not be more of a Separatist; Wolf and leon will more than likely be mercilessly hunted until the end of their days, yet you and I both know that they are fighting for all the right reasons. If Celestra and Sensenic are willing to risk everything to aid them, should we not do the same?"

Slippy held out one hand, and smiling warmly Erik placed one of the phials in Slippy's palm; they unstoppered the small glass tubes, studying the metamorphosis concoction with anxiety and resolve. Slippy leaned forward and tapped his phial against Erik's. "For Keil and William."

Erik toasted back. "Cheers."

* * *

Morray was toweling his white hair dry when there came a polite knock at the door. Celestra had left already (she and Leon fought daily to increase their skills) and he didn't think Wolf would have any reason to talk to him, so he puzzled about who could be calling on him and dressed quickly. Tugging the door open he received quite a surprise.

Two very mismatched men were standing in his doorway. The first was lithe and elegant-looking with a pale, oval-shaped face set with high cheekbones; his hair was short and a sleek silver-white, his eyes as rich and magnificent as pale blue diamonds. His companion could not have been more his opposite; he was short, squat, and pudgy, with flaming red-orange hair and dark brown eyes rimmed by thick spectacles. Morray ran a hand through his hair, perplexed. "I apologize . . . do I know - ?"

But there was something about the way the slender, elegant one smiled sheepishly at him, and the red-haired one matter-of-factly adjusted his glasses; Morray gasped suddenly and clapped a hand over his mouth, aghast.

"I don't believe it . . . ." he murmured through his fingertips. "Erik? Slippy? Is that you?"

A pair of uncertain grins answered him, and he dropped his hand, grinning jovially. "Come in, come in!" he exclaimed, ushering them inside and pulling the door shut behind them. "What a pair of highly distinguished gentlemen you make! But why, if I may be so bold as to ask, did you decide to take the potion? You have little reason to hide."

"We will explain soon," answered Erik, "but first, you must locate the others. We will meet you in the room that Slippy and I share."

Morray found Wolf still half-asleep in his bed, and the pair of them interrupted a sparring session between Leon and Celestra and trouped together to the room of the two KWEST executives; the other were very surprised to see Erik and Slippy in human form, and began asking questions immediately. Slippy passed out the invitations Jak had digitally sent them, and when everyone had thoroughly read the contents they began to discuss the situation.

"Erik and I have already hacked in and stolen Anilora's guest list; Merrick is on it, just as we thought he'd be," Slippy explained. "There'll be security, but it'll be pretty minimal.

"And you two are going, are you?" put in Wolf.

"With invitations, we will be admitted without complication," Erik pointed out. "No one will be aware of the fact that we are the executives of KWEST - this is why we took the potion, you see. Slippy and I, too, would be easily recognized, and people would ask questions."

Leon leaned coolly against the wall, dark eyes brooding. "It will be hard to get at Merrick; as this is an important event you can expect several hundred people to be around. We can't just start a fight in full view of the public, especially not with Anilora around."

"Leave him to me," Morray offered negligently, and he waved one hand in dismissal. "I can talk politics with anyone, including Gilraen Anilora. I can keep him occupied, at least long enough for one of you to confront Merrick."

"No," came Celestra's protest, and they simultaneously glanced over at her. "The last time we came face-to-face he seemed interested in me, even though he sees a different person - I can use that against him. I can use Catherine Marxley to keep him busy."

Leon's eyes flitted over to Morray, whose face was carefully unreadable, and knew that the idea was burning the man's insides. Wolf broke the silence by saying "Alright, if you're doing that, who's going to cover the rest of Star Fox? Anilora's sure to invite them, too."

"We'll do that," said Slippy, and Erik nodded along. "You and Doctor Morray can join us."

"And we'll be sure to equip ourselves with remote communication devices, so we can all collaborate our movements," Erik added. "This way, you'll have people ready to cover you if things turn ill," he added to Leon, who nodded once in thanks.

"I also downloaded this," Slippy cut in, and punching a few buttons on the room's G-Diffuser he summoned a three-dimensional grid map of the Amber Spire, pulling a laser pointer out of his pocket to indicate certain areas. "The primary entrance is here, but there are a pair of side doors that will probably see less traffic. Just in case Merrick's got something planned, we should not enter at the same time, or even through the same door. The high table where Anilora and Merrick will both be sitting is here - " he flashed the laser over a northern section, " - and the ballroom floor is spread all along here - " the red light illuminated the west section and the southwest corner. "An orchestra will be set up and performing here - " Slippy outlined the northeastern corner and the entire east wall, " - and, of course, the three entrances are all lined up here, with staircases leading down into the seating area." Slippy finished by moving the point of light south to southeast, then the grid blipped off and the screen darkened. "Erik and I will go in the far right door and sweep up on the far side of the orchestra."

"I can cut up the middle and find a table; we shouldn't look too nosy, and eating dinner will be pretty inconspicuous." Wolf trained his eye on Morray with a smirk. "It'll keep some of us out of trouble. Why don't you come with me, Leon? We'll have a decent view of the high table."

"And I shall escort Celestra inside; we will cross the room via the ballroom floor," finished Morray, and he clapped his hands together once in finality. "That should cover everything, I think! Is there anything we've forgotten?"

"Actually, I need to talk to you," Slippy spoke up suddenly, his eyes on Wolf, who looked almost perplexed. Erik engaged Morray in conversation again and Leon and Celestra returned to their training session; the squat, red-headed executive beckoned to Wolf, and led him out into the hallway. The mercenary commander followed in silence for several minutes, but when he realized Slippy seemed uncomfortable he asked, "Alright, kid - what do you want?"

They had come to a halt outside a pair of swinging double doors; Slippy surveyed Wolf for a moment, apprehensive. "I didn't want to handle this in front of the others . . . behind this door is a sterilized medical bay, where a team of highly-qualified KWEST surgeons have gathered at my invitation. I made sure they were well aware of the situation beforehand, because if it was me, I'd be scared senseless - "

"Get on with it, Toad," Wolf growled, clearly impatient.

"What I'm trying to say is . . . ." The younger executive sighed and rubbed his hands together briskly. "They're here to perform the surgery . . . that may give you your full vision back."

Wolf's real eye widened as he stared speechlessly back at Slippy, then he leaned back and braced himself against the wall as his knees threatened to give out. " . . . What?"

Slippy took a measured step forward, holding his hands out placatingly. "Don't panic, Wolf, everything has been set up carefully and the team here is full of professionals. You've got nothing to worry about."

"Oh, really?" The mercenary commander had found his tongue again. "Have you ever had someone shove an eye into your socket? Can you personally tell me that the half-vision I've got now isn't in any danger?"

"We'll be frank with you, respectable Mr. O'Donnel - no one in that room has endured this delicate surgery," came a calm voice from the shadows of the hallway, and Erik Nioxin joined them, face passive. "However, neither Slippy nor I would suggest this procedure to you if we were not convinced that your safety would be secure." He approached, eyes sympathetic and reassuring as only a Fortunan's could be, and placed a hand on Wolf's shoulder. "We understand that you still have difficulty trusting us because of the war, but we are trying to help you. The men in that room can give your complete sight back to you."

Wolf blinked, and he could acutely feel the difference between his one true eye and the glass orb that Slippy had created for him many weeks before. He remembered the agony of Andross burning his eye out for an amateur's failure, and waking up every day after that and attempting to carry on a normal life without it. Despite his handicap he was still capable, still useful, but how much more could he be with the gift of full vision? He focused his eye on Erik.

"Okay," he said hoarsely. "I'll do it."

Erik smiled warmly and wound and arm around Wolf's shoulders, a calming gesture as Slippy reached up and carefully popped out the artificial eye; then together the two executives led the mercenary leader through the double doors.

* * *

Sitting silently at his desk, Sensenic Morray read a book of philosophy with mild interest, waiting patiently for Celestra to return from her evening workout with Leon so they could discuss the gala. Presently there came a soft knock on the door, and looking up from his book he called for the visitor to enter. The door opened and Erik Nioxin stepped in, his eyes glittering strangely; Morray bookmarked his page. "Is everything alright, Erik?"

"Doctor Morray . . . I apologize, but . . . ." Erik ran a hand through his silver-white hair, and it struck the older Fortunan how tired his adopted son seemed. "Slippy and I must speak with Jak. Could you please do something very important for me?"

"Anything! You have only to name it."

Erik retreated into the hallway and led in Wolf - only Wolf was moving quite slowly, with heavy bandages covering his eyes. Morray was on his feet at once, a look of uncharacteristic shock and horror on his face. "Would you keep him company? And help him remove the bandages in a half-hour?"

"Of course." Morray came slowly forward, clasping Wolf's forearm firmly; Erik nodded once in wordless appreciation and exited, pulling the door shut as he went. The commander-in-chief led his friend over to the bed, where they sat down in a tense, awkward silence. When it seemed clear that Wolf was resolutely not speaking, Morray cleared his throat with a little cough. "Respectable Mr. O'Donnel?"

Wolf issued a grunt to show he was listening.

"If I may state the obvious, why are there bandages covering your eyes?"

Morray was sure that if Wolf could see, he would have been staring at him with cold, vehement contempt; as it was, the mercenary commander merely barked out a bitter laugh. "Because I just got out of surgery."

"That would make sense. Who has been operating on you?"

"A bunch of surgeons from KWEST that Slippy and Erik called here."

"And why have they been operating on you, exactly?"

There was an uncustomary pause in Wolf's normally strong, unbroken speech before he said, "Because Slippy and Erik are trying to give me full vision. A real eye was implanted into my socket, and they went in and connected the receptor and optical nerves."

"And did it . . . work?"

"I dont know." Wolf's shoulders were sagging; Morray couldn't remember ever feeling so sorry for anyone. "I can't take these damn bandages off until you say. How much longer?"

"Twenty-one minutes," Morray responded, without a missing a beat. He wasn't quite sure what to say to the man; Wolf had never let anyone see him in a state of such fragilty. Deciding that an inquiry into one's well-being was a safe question he asked, "How are you feeling? Are you alright?"

With a groan of discomfort Wolf lay back, face contorted into a grimace. "I feel nauseous."

"All of your anxiety is undoubtedly the cause of that." Morray padded into the next room, and Wolf could hear the man rummaging in a cupboard, and then the water faucet as it was turned on. Morray returned and sat close to his friend, guiding the glass into his hand. "Have a bit of water, then; worry is a wicked dehydrator."

Wolf did as he was told, taking a gulp with Morray's hand steadying the glass; the Fortunan took the glass when he had finished, and set it on the end-table. He had just opened his mouth to stumble through a bit more conversation when Wolf said, "Listen, Doctor . . . about blaming you for what happened when we fought Star Fox . . . ."

Morray knew that Wolf was about to offer some sort of awkward apology and found that he didn't need to hear it. "It's alright. We were all angry after that confrontation, and we all said things we did not mean. I did not take it deeply to heart."

"Sensenic." He said it with a note of irritation and more than a little bluntness, but Morray dismissed it immediately - Wolf never addressed him by first name! He felt his jaw drop in disbelief, and he sputtered incoherently until Wolf muttered, "I don't want to be blind."

His face screwed up in a silent howl, and Morray was certain if Wolf could, he would be crying hard; he reached out and laid a sympathetic hand on Wolf's shoulder, murmuring serenely, "Oh, Wolf, you will not be without your sight! Everything will be alright! Erik and Slippy would not have offered this opportunity to you had they not first made certain that the risks were non-existent. Regardless, we will all continued to support you."

"But what if I can't see?"

"You will be able to see, Wolf. I promise you that. May I go blind if you cannot." He glanced over at the clock sitting on the nightstand and felt his stomach do a somersault. "It's time."

Together they carefully unwound the many dressings covering Wolf's eyes, until each one had been pulled away and his face was clear. Morray painstakingly wiped the mercenary commander's face clean and dry with a cloth, and after a moment Wolf opened his eyes.

And immediately trained them both on Morray, grinning broadly.

"Welcome back to the world, respectable Mr. O'Donnel," said the Fortunan captain, and he bowed low.

* * *

Beneath a velt sky draped with innumerable pinpricks of stars, Katinan capitol Nexxus spiraled out for many miles, a patchwork of multicolored lights after sunset. Most stunning of all was the needle-shaped Amber Spire, alight with the soft glow of yellow-orange fire, beckoning its admirers to worship it from all around. Well-dressed security inspected invitations at every entrance, welcoming well-to-do citizens from all across Lylat to the anniversary of Katina's most important structure; hundreds had arrived already, and hundreds were yet to come.

Within the ivory walls of the Amber Spire, a grand, sweeping staircase led down to a polished marble floor dotted with meticulously-set tables; tuxedo-clad waiters bustled about, bearing trays of hors d'oevres, after dinner mints, and Katina's famous heartwine. Away to the right, an orchestra from Nexxus's distant sister city Brahms was playing a sweet allegretto in f-minor, while across the room a few couples danced (though most were enjoying their meals, for the night was young yet). Talk of numerous topics spattered conversationally throughout the hall; laughter rang out, greetings were expressed, and tales were heartily shared.

It was a pity that General Pepper could not attend, Anilora thought, eyes taking in all the good-natured merrymaking. The man had been under a great deal of stress, what with construction difficulties plaguing him daily and the problem that was Star Wolf haunting his dreams. Anilora imagined that a little leisure time would have greatly benefitted the Cornerian general, but he supposed the head of all Loyalist governments was afforded very little of that in his tenure. Still, he admitted, silently sipping a glass of violet heartwine, it was nice to be without the general for a bit, and talk of things unrelated to politics. He was half-listening to Fox and Falco as they recounted a wild story Bill had asked to hear; the four had been sitting companionably at the high table for an hour now, reliving the war through their many tales.

Anilora was too far awy from the stairs to take notice of the admiring murmur that stirred up at the newest arrival. A fair-skinned lady was gracefully descending the stairs, flaxen hair in loose curls around her lovely face, emerald eyes wide as she smiled around at everyone; a dress of a matching brilliant green swished about her ankles, a slit up one side revealing a shapely alabaster leg with every other step she took. She was arm-in-arm with a man so handsome that every woman in the wide hall was gazing at him glassy-eyed; he wore a white tuxedo as pristine as newly-fallen snow, almost exactly matching the elegant mane of wavy-white hair that fell gracefully to his shoulders. His face might have been chiseled from porcelain and set with two magnificent deep sapphires for eyes; a wide-brimmed white bolero sat atop his head, at once making him distinguished and roguish to the eye.

"The stars shine bright with envy tonight, for you have stolen their beauty," said Sensenic Morray in a playful undertone, and Celestra snorted derisively.

"Do you realize that you're the only man in Lylat who talks like that anymore?" she shot back, smile never faltering as she waved to the ecstatic onlookers.

Morray tipped his hat to a trio of beautiful women, who all swooned at once. "A substantial gift, I must say. You must admit, it is much more pleasing to hear than 'you look nice'. What a dreadfully overused expression."

"Point taken." The female assassin's eyes were scanning the crowd as the attention gradually turned from them. "Do you see anyone we know?"

"You are referring, perhaps, to Merrick? Or Gilraen and the mercenaries?" The commander-in-chief gave the crowd a brief once-over. "I'm afraid not - but the night has barely begun. We have ample time to cause mischief and meddle about."

A minute communication device blipped to life in Morray's ear, and he heard Leon's voice say, "Anilora and the mercenaries are sitting at the high table; Merrick is not there."

"Did you get that?" the Fortunan asked, and Celestra nodded and tapped her ear.

The pair made their way across the room at a leisurely pace, glad to be in a relaxed atmosphere for once, and Morray set to talking at length about the plans for the obmion compound as a cover so Celestra could have a look around without attracting suspicion. Everywhere people were talking jovially to one another, enjoying the fine meal and the softly playing orchestra; she did not see the rest of their companions, and there was no sign of Merrick. She turned her eyes to the north, where there hung a massive clock set with roman numerals; it was only half-past eight. There was plenty of time for Merrick to show up, though she suspected he was already about, watching them from a distance and contemplating his options.

Morray took her hand and spun her suddenly away from him, raising a hand to his lips with that charming smile. "Dance with me! It has been far too long since we have had a moment to ourselves."

Celestra smiled and moved closer, and they stepped onto the ballroom floor.

Across the room, Leon had just located Wolf, Erik, and Slippy; the four of them sat around a table with a clear view of the high table, where Wolf was carefully watching the Katinan captain and his fellow mercenaries. Slippy and Erik carried an innocent conversation over their meals, and Leon offered a comment occasionally while he surveyed the crowd. The mercenary commander flagged down a passing waiter, and they were all rewarded with glasses of Katina's vintage violet heartwine. Slippy ogled at him. "I'm five years underage, Wolf."

"Then it's your lucky day. Drink up and stop whining." Wolf took up his own glass and drained it in one gulp; at the amazed and disgusted looks on Erik and Slippy's faces, Leon let out a rare chuckle.

"Don't be deceived. In situations such as these, one always has an individual role to play. Generally Wolf's is that of inebriated babbling idiot. He will drink many more glasses, as you will see, but he will never truly lose his focus."

"How is that possible, exactly?" marveled Erik, and Wolf chuckled with wry amusement.

"Oh, believe me, I've done this before." They watched as Leon slid his glass, still untouched, across the table to his fellow mercenary. "And you'll find that, while Leon will be seen with all sorts of drinks, you'll never see him drink one."

"Captain Anilora is on the move," they each heard Morray say, and with a soft hand gesture Leon signaled to the others that he would keep watch. He took up the conversation that Erik and Slippy had abandoned with the arrival of the drinks, leaning back on the pretense of stretching, and turned his head to one side; Anilora had indeed risen from his seat, and was shaking hands with the vampiric-looking Merrick. His long black hair was pulled back away from his face, and he wore his collar upturned; as he shook hands with the Katinan captain, Merrick exchanged a word of greeting that Anilora only half-heartedly returned. Quite bereft of his cordial nature, Anilora wore a smile that seemed rather forced.

"Is anyone else seeing that?" came Celestra's voice. "Doesn't it look like Gilraen isn't too thrilled to see him?"

"With that collar turned up, he looks a little like Count Dracula," Slippy mused aloud, and Erik and Wolf joined him in a hearty snicker.

Leon ignored them and spoke directly to Celestra. "There seems to be some animosity. Perhaps the captain suspects?"

"I'm not sure. He's uncertain, at least. Gilraen isn't the sort of person to show any outward hostility - he probably just doesn't like Merrick."

"He's not the most personable man alive, I will admit." The youngest of the four mercenaries continued to watch vigilantly as Anilora indicated Bill, Fox, and Falco, all of whom greeted Merrick with the same stiff formality. "Interesting. The rest of Star Fox seems to think in a similar way."

"You've got Gilraen covered, in case anything goes wrong?"

Leon dropped a hand to his tuxedo jacket pocket, where he kept concealed an adamantite pistol. "I doubt Merrick will cause any trouble in public, but yes, I have Anilora covered. Where are you?"

"Dancing with Sensenic. We have a decent view of the high table from here. Is everyone ready to fan out?"

"The moment they move, we move." Leon fell silent then and rejoined the conversation, where Slippy and Erik were making vampire expressions for an annoyed-looking Wolf. Merrick sat down beside Anilora, accepting a glass of wine from a passing waiter, and his eyes fell directly upon Leon.

The diminuitive mercenary felt his stomach clench but did not tear his eyes away, although he did subconsciously pass a hand over his stomach where his almost-mortal wound had left a scar. Merrick's eyes were that same empty, fathomless black they had been the last time they had come face-to-face; Leon's breath was hard to come by, and then he felt Wolf's hand on his shoulder, jolting him back to reality. He looked away, breathing normally again. Wolf's eyes were severe.

"Don't you let him control you," he murmured to Leon, his voice holding a very rare compassion. "Don't you dare."

Leon glanced up; Merrick was deep in conversation with an uncomfortable-looking Anilora, and showed no trace that he had seen his adversary at all. He heard Celestra issue a sound of defensive discomfort, then she said, "I'm going up there. I don't like this. I don't trust Merrick."

This time it was Wolf who spoke. "None of us trust Merrick, Celestra, but you can't blow your cover. Just relax and see what happens - Leon's not the only one who's got Anilora covered."

They were all watching the interplay at the high table now, and as they turned their attentions upon Merrick they saw his face darken suddenly; Anilora was looking affronted, and the Rogue Leader threatening. Leon and Wolf both had hands on weapons in their pockets when Celestra said, "I'm sorry - I can't watch this."

A few moments later they saw her scale the few steps leading to the high table; Wolf sighed, surly again. "Great. Just _great_."

* * *

"Captain Anilora!"

The distraction was almost on cue; happy to be drawn away from a particularly unpleasant conversation with Merrick Di'mant, the Katinan captain looked up. Standing there, shining with a light all her own, was the head of KWEST chemical research, Catherine Marxley. He looked back at Merrick, whose face had suddenly tensed, and said merrily, "Won't you excuse me?" Then he rose from his seat, straightening his black tuxedo jacket, and offered his arm to the lovely blonde woman. As Anilora led her away, Celestra glanced over her shoulder and cast Merrick a glare of purest hatred, which he returned before she turned away.

Once out of earshot, Anilora sighed and dismissed his momentary discomfort with a good-natured laugh before turning to Celestra. "My most sincere greetings, Miss Marxley, and let me also offer my gratitude. You have just rescued me from a rather awkward position." He ended by lifting her hand to his lips.

"Think nothing of it." Celestra had not forgotten to speak with a noticeable Fortunan accent, as she had done during their last encounter. "But why, if I may ask, do you not enjoy the company of Merrick Di'mant?"

Anilora looked over at her in surprise. "You know Merrick?"

_Unfortunately_, thought Celestra, but she answered, "Yes, but not personally. I know of him, rather."

"Ah." The pair were wandering amiably in-between tables, chatting easily and naturally; a waiter offered them glasses, and they continued on their way, sipping sweet heartwine. "Did the rest of the obmion research team come as well?"

"Yes, my colleagues are here. They were dining when I came to say hello; you looked as though you were in need of an excuse to get away."

"You're very perceptive, Miss Marxley." Anilora leaned across and tipped his glass, catching hers with a soft _clink_. "I have heard talk of the obmion research director pushing for the weapon compound to be immobilized as a handheld weapon. Doctor Morell is very ambitious."

Celestra nodded. "Doctor Morell's genius knows no limits. He thinks the obmion will revolutionize technology and replace the adamantite laser completely; if he believes that, he will continue trying until he succeeds."

"Such kind words," snickered Sensenic Morray into the communication device, and Celestra had to fight hard not to laugh.

"And do you think he will succeed?" Anilora continued, oblivious.

"If anyon can do it, it's Simon Morell." Celestra sought to keep the conversation going and said, "I read of your battle with Star Wolf in the _K'yorin Columnist_, Captain. I was happy to hear of your safety."

"You're very kind." Somewhere behind them, the orchestra from Brahms struck up an andante in D major, and the dancing couples on the ballroom floor slowed their pace at the tempo change. "Star Wolf escaped justice again, I'm afraid, and if you can keep a secret I shall tell you that the populace is increasing its pressure on General Pepper."

Celestra was listening rapturously now. "Your secret is safe with me, Captain."

"Public outcry demands vengeance be done upon the remainder of Andross's followers. It has been nearly eight months, and the civilian voices are outraged that Andross's elite mercenary squadron continues to fly freely in this galaxy. My colleagues and I have been seeking them for a good many weeks, but the disappearances of Celestra Marquette and Sensenic Morray - "

"Oh, fabulous, now he's talking about me," scoffed Morray in the assassin's ear.

" - Also demand our attentions. Surely you can understand our hesitation to move against them, for if Celestra and Sensenic are hostages in custody of the mercenaries, any hostility on our part might spur Star Wolf into action." Anilora heaved a sigh, seeming truly anguished at the predicament. "But of course the civilian population understands that not at all; putting an end to the threat of Star Wolf is priority one as far as they are concerned." Anilora cut himself off with a laugh. "And I've been talking quite long enough; forgive me."

"Oh, that's alright. I enjoy listening to your tales."

"Pour it on, you suck-up," Wolf chimed in, and the others laughed sardonically in the background.

"But you didn't answer my question, Captain," Celestra plowed on determinedly. "Why is it that you don't like Merrick?"

Anilora raised his glass again, sipping its contents thoughtfully as he considered. Finally he said carefully, "Aren't you acquainted with someone, Miss Marxley, who has never done you an injustice but seems untrustworthy nonetheless?"

She could think of no example right away, but Celestra agreed for the sake of the conversation.

"Such is my acquaintance with Merrick. Make no mistake - the man has worked hard for years to attain his veteran status and has the general's full confidence, but I sense something deeper, more malevolent. I had the same feeling many years ago while I was a lieutenant serving Katina in the wake of Arial LeValley's assassination; upon meeting Zeke Necro for the first time, I felt he was capable of wicked things - this was before he was exposed as a neo-Separatist, of course. I cannot explain it, and I cannot offer you a rational reasoning for my suspicions, but that is why I am less than fond of Merrick."

"Bit less stupid than you thought, respectable Mr. O'Donnel?" came Erik's voice over the communication device.

"I wouldn't go that far," came Wolf's stubborn reply.

"His suspicions are not without merit!" Morray protested passionately.

"That doesn't make him intelligent," Leon pointed out.

Celestra had to bite her tongue to keep from both laughing out loud and reprimanding her companions. As a healthy alternative she said, "That makes perfect sense, Captain. But if I may ask one more question, why are you letting me into your confidence?"

Anilora smiled kindly. "Because I feel I can trust you."

They had inadvertently wound up passing near the ballroom floor, and the Katinan captain offered a hand with an almost nervous smile. "Well, Miss Marxley, would you honor me with a dance?"

Celestra hesitated. She knew it was not a good idea to get mixed up with Anilora again, especially not with both Morray and Merrick so near; still, she couldn't deny that having a full conversation with him had stirred up old feelings that she could hardly ignore. There was a history between them, and now that she was here, staring into such kind, familiar eyes, she could not believe that that history was over.

Even if he saw Catherine Marxley, and not Celestra Marquette.

"It would be my pleasure, Captain." She slid her hand into his and let him draw her closer; it was then that she found relief, for in his eyes there was a light that none but Celestra Marquette had ever seen.

* * *

There was no time to dwell on the newfound agony in his heart, for just then Sensenic Morray saw Merrick rise and leave the high table. At once the three other Star Fox mercenaries fell together, and by the contortions of their faces they were obviously talking quite vehemently. As he watched, the Rogue Leader descended the stairs and was instantly lost in the crowd; he jumped up, startling his four comrades.

"Where's the fire, old man?" asked Wolf, who had just finished his fifth wine and was still unfazed.

"Merrick is on the move. We must not let him get away!" And as quickly as he could manage without attracting suspicion, Morray hurried off into the crowd. Wolf didn't need telling twice, setting off after the Fortunan and deviating left from his path; Leon followed, moving off to the right.

Slippy laughed, long and hard, pounding his fist on the table with a mirth lost on his fellow executive. "Wow, they're fast! Did you see that?! They're gone!" He ended with a hiccup and loudly belched.

"I think you've had quite enough to drink," said Erik.

* * *

Merrick glanced over his shoulder, and though he was sure that Leon, Wolf, and Morray were trying their best to seem inconspicuous, they stuck out easily to his practiced eye. He reverted his gaze to the dancing couples at the eastern end of the room and spied Celestra and Anilora revolving slowly on the spot, and grinned devilishly. _Fools. When will they learn that it is I who control who lives and who dies?_

He passed outside, nodded to the two security guards standing at the entrance, and signaled some unseen ally; black-hooded figures dropped from above, silencing the cries of the guards at once before any sound was made. "They're coming," he told them, when the dead sentries had been thrown into the nearest dumpster. "When you see them, kill them all."

Then he turned and stole silently along to the primary entrance, where he was re-admitted after flashing his invitation.

* * *

Wolf was the first to exit the Amber Spire, hand firmly clutching his laser pistol in his suit pocket as he paused and let his eyes adjust to the near-darkness of the street. Instantly he was tackled from behind and pushed into the pavement, and a blade flashed in the light from a nearby street lamp.

But Wolf was a mercenary commander who responded to sudden attacks like second nature; he snapped his head back, catching his attacker off-guard and snapping the bridge of his nose. He was on his feet after flinging the bleeding rogue from his back, and pistol in hand he faced off against twenty or more hooded figures. "Abort the plan - there are rogues out here, damn him, Merrick tricked us again! I'm outnumbered!"

He began firing madly into the fray, but even Wolf O'Donnel knew that one person could not outfight twenty.

But then Leon ran up to flank his right, blaster out and tearing into the ranks, and on the other side Morray unbuttoned his tuxedo jacket and dropped it to the ground, all the easier to get at the throwing knives belted to his waist. Bolts of energy heated the air; tiny, thin knives punctured vital areas, and the three had laid their enemies low in only a few minutes.

"Did you see which way he went?" Leon asked immediately, and Wolf didn't need to ask whom Leon meant. He shook his head.

"By the time I got out here, he was already gone. It was all a trap."

Morray wrestled back into his jacket and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. "He meant to throw us off-track. He purposely led us astray. Why would he do that?"

They all stared at one another, suddenly horrified; Wolf raised a hand to his ear to activate the communication device and said "Celestra, do you copy?"

There was no answer; they sprinted for the entrance.

* * *

While the orchestra took a short break, Anilora glanced at Celestra and said, "Would you like a glass of wine, Miss Marxley?"

Celestra was fanning herself with her hand. "That would be wonderful, Captain. I'll wait here for you."

He raised her hand to his lips again, placing a gentle kiss to the back of her hand before moving off to find drinks. Celestra smiled as he retreated and hugged herself, giddy for some reason she could not explain; across the room, the orchestra struck up a chilling gavotte in c-sharp minor.

A hand as cold as death brushed over her shoulder before turning her around none-too-gently; Merrick removed the communication device from her ear, dropped it down to the marble floor, and crushed it beneath his shoe. He looked very much like some undead being, with his long black hair tied meticulously back and his face chalk-white and severe; she wouldn't have been surprised to see fangs when he parted his lips.

"You must be much more cunning than I gave you credit for, standing face-to-face with Gilraen Anilora and fooling him into thinking you're someone else," Merrick murmured, hand lingering on her shoulder; face livid, Celestra slapped his hand away. He grasped her wrist and twisted hard, and she became still. "Now now - don't make a scene in front of all these people, and don't give the captain a reason to have to worry about you." Then he came forward and pulled her very close, hissing in her ear, "Now dance."

Celestra, now very afraid, had no choice but to obey, and the pair began a tense and aggressive gavotte across the floor.

The feel of his hands on her, guiding her body forcefully through the dance, made her skin crawl; repulsed and furious she asked "Where are the others?"

"Dead in the street, or such is my hope. Listen carefully - I have men positioned at the Cornerian Army Base, ready to move in on the general on my command, and others have infiltrated this building and more than likely have your dear captain in their sights. And of course you don't want to place any lives in danger, therefore you will answer my questions truthfully. IF you do not, people will die."

Merrick forced Celestra into a dip to study her face; she was wearing an expression of hateful condescendence. He whisked her up against him and started his interrogation. "Who are the executives who own and operate KWEST?"

Celestra hesitated. Merrick's hand tightened on hers until a sharp pain shot through her fingers, and she grunted out, "I don't know."

"You're lying. I know that you know. Now tell me."

"Alright, fine," Celestra huffed, and stealing a glance into the crowd she saw Anilora approaching with a pair of drinks; thinking fast she said, "Sensenic built it and left his second-in-command in charge. I'm the other executive - we created the _Myst_ Arwings, and the metamorphosis concoction is something he's been developing for years."

"If that's true - and I don't think it is - why all the secrecy? And why is Sensenic Morray still listed as head engineer at Arspace Division Four?"

His hold on her was like steel; Celestra tried hard to keep her focus. "The switch was made on the sly; we knew General Pepper wouldn't approve of putting Metgiacon out of business on a hunch. He would want proof, and the _Myst Alpha_ wasn't good enough yet. So we built it anonymously."

Merrick was eyeing her with intense distrust - Celestra stared back with determination. Then he said again, "You're lying. I will kill them, Celestra; give me half a reason and you will be responsible for their deaths."

"I have nothing to gain by lying, and I would never put Gilraen in danger." Celestra was praying with every ounce of her strength that Merrick would believe the bluff; if he didn't, she had just betrayed two of her superiors. He changed the subject then, asking about all sorts of other things, and she could only play the inconspicuous liar as well as she knew how.

At the edge of the floor, Captain Anilora watched the pair dance, all the while shivering under the many emotions that assaulted him at the sight. Catherine Marxley was clearly not enjoying herself, and with good reason, for Merrick looked particularly imposing. Perhaps it was in the way that Merrick held her, so close and demanding, or the rigidity of Catherine's movements, or the barely-suppressed fear in her face, but Anilora felt compelled to intervene. Then something entirely insignificant happened that froze him in his tracks.

Catherine glanced over and saw him standing there, her face frightened, desperate, and protective all at once, and her eyes willed him to stay away. Then Merrick had drawn her back into the dance, and Anilora was beside himself with sudden realization. It was a face he had seen before; it was a face that he had seen every night in his sweetest dreams since the age of twenty.

Anilora dropped both glasses suddenly, oblivious to them shattering and splashing the feet of several passers-by with violet heartwine.

Celestra. _That was Celestra out there with Merrick._

He took a step forward, meaning to intervene at once, but a hand grasped his elbow and pulled him back. Anilora turned at once, face wrathful, and saw Simon Morell standing there in a white tuxedo. "Doctor Morell, please, release me at once - "

"You cannot go out there, Captain," said the engineer, and his eyes shone with worry and anxiety. "You cannot go to Celestra, or Merrick will kill her."

There was no facade left to deter him, and Anilora's jaw dropped. "Sensenic?!"

"Please! Show no recognition!" Morray's face was desperate; he attempted to pull his superior further away, but Anilora's eyes were again on Celestra and he refused to budge. "You must not let Merrick see that you know! It will ruin all we have worked so hard to keep safe!"

"What's going on?" Anilora demanded, and Morray shrank back at the severity of the Katinan captain's tone. "Why are you and Celestra working with Wolf and Leon? What is happening?"

Morray was beside himself. "How did you know that we had allied with them?"

But Anilora would hear no more, and tore his arm free of Morray's grip; in six steps he had crossed the floor to where Merrick and Celestra danced, pulling them apart with a single swift movement, and pushing the female assassin out of harm's way he punched Merrick in the jaw with a flawless right hook. Onlookers openly voiced their distaste; Anilora looked quite prepared to strike again.

"Stay away from her," he whispered dangerously. "Never touch her again, or I will kill you."

Merrick turned and fled; Anilora reached out for Celestra, his heart in his throat, but Morray tore on by and swept her along, pursuing Merrick as quickly as he could while half-dragging Celestra and shouldering around guests. She glanced back, mouth open to call to him -

Bill was at his side, Fox and Falco in tow, and Anilora could only watch as they retreated.

* * *

Merrick pushed up the sleeve of his tuxedo jacket as he jostled through the crowd, who all snapped rudely as he passed, to reveal a complicated-looking wristwatch that was actually a portable G-Diffuser system. After triggering a button on one side he said, "Come and get me; Anilora knows." He sprinted up the stairs, startling fancily-clad guests and pompous-looking guards, all of which shouted for him to halt; ignoring them all he pelted out the door and into the dimly-lit circle.

A shot fired from behind and grazed his ear, and whirling in an agile fashion he turned to see Wolf leveling the pistol to fire again. He pulled a blaster of his own from a pocket of his tuxedo jacket and pulled the trigger first, striking the barrel of his opponent's gun and sending it from Wolf's hand; he spun to continue his flight, and there stood Leon Powalski, twin switchblades held at the ready. Merrick shot once, only to have the energy bullet deflected by a faultless parry; a second shot sailed harmlessly by, and Leon quick-stepped within range and struck. The superficial wound slashed up the Rogue Leader's forearm, tearing through the jacket and biting through the skin, and swinging the gun barrel-first Merrick bashed the diminuitive mercenary in the nose, forcing him back. Celestra and Morray dashed into the street then, both armed and ready to deliver a blow; Merrick could feel something hot and wet oozing from his injured ear as he glanced up.

The cruiser descended quickly, even firing its primary laser cannons a few times to drive the Star Wolf team back; an iron-runged ladder was thrown from an open side-hatch, and Merrick scrambled up. Celestra and Wolf fired blindly at the dangling figure, but the sky had darkened many hours before and visibility was poor. Soon the cruiser had disappeared from view; Wolf cast his blaster to the ground in rage. "Damn it! The four of us together couldn't catch him! What are we gonna do now?!"

Leon was pinching his nose to stop the bleeding, though thankfully it wasn't broken; Morray lifted his head and said, "I've just heard from Erik and Slippy - they are en route in _Paradox_. We can pursue Merrick all the way back to Corneria if we must."

"_Wait_!!!"

The four mercenaries turned back for the entrance, and with sinking stomachs recognized Anilora, Bill, Fox, and Falco running toward them. Wolf looked quite inclined to flee, but Leon put out his free hand and caught hold of his arm. "It's no use. I'm sure they've figured it out by now." Even as he said this Fox and Falco flew at the men they now knew to be their mortal enemies, but Anilora cried out "No, don't! Leave them be!"

"But Captain . . . Star Wolf . . . ."

"I don't care about that! That's Celestra and Sensenic!!"

They stopped at once, staring, eyes wide and disbelieving, and Bill was the first to say, "This doesn't make any sense . . . they're all human . . . ."

Celestra was showing signs of wanting to run to Bill and Anilora, but Morray placed a firm but gentle hand upon her shoulder and shook his head. Wolf and Leon were tucking their weapons away, though somewhat begrudgingly; no one showed any sign of wanting to explain, so Morray said, "Please, everyone, you must leave us be. I did try to tell you, Captain, but now that you have seen for yourself there will be no harm in telling you everything. Merrick Di'mant is a Separatist in disguise, who has been plotting the resurrection of Andross and mustering a massive legion of Separatist rogues. We are departing shortly to pursue him, but I personally fear the worst. The galaxy is unprepared for another conflict, and the celebration in Nexxus has left General Pepper vulnerable in K'yorin."

"You think Merrick is going to . . . ." Fox shook his head, swallowing hard, as though voicing his fears would make them true; mastering himself he finished " . . .Kill the general?"

Morray hung his head. "Many weeks ago he revealed to one of our number that he plans to assassinate the general, yes."

"Who?" asked Falco skeptically.

They glanced in unison at Leon, who was looking very out-of-sorts again and lowered his eyes. Immediately there was an uproar.

"Oh, Sensenic, come on!!"

"You can't trust these guys!"

Overhead there appeared a bright light, and looking up they saw the Fortunan cruiser _Paradox_ descending toward them; Wolf laughed monotonously and shook his head. "You're wasting your time, old man! These guys aren't ready to hear what we've got to say; they're still too busy holding onto stupid grudges. The war is over, boys - grow up and live in the here and now."

Fox and Falco bristled at Wolf's words but said nothing in opposition; Leon dabbed at his nose and said, "We've got a plane to catch, Morray; if you want to catch Merrick, now's the time."

"In a moment." Morray's face was deathly serious; they had never seen him so furiously passionate. His eyes were on Anilora. "There is only so much we can do; even if you do not trust our companions, trust this. Very soon the figureheads of the Loyalist government will be in mortal danger - I ask only that you three fight with all of your hearts to keep Captain Anilora safe." His eyes were shining with dull anxiety. "If we do not reach the general in time, all will fall upon your young shoulders, dearest captain and friend."

"But what about you, Sensenic? You are the commander-in-chief! Who will protect you?" cried Anilora, anguished.

"We will," said Celestra, face set and determined, and Wolf and Leon nodded assent. "We will never leave his side."

_Paradox_ touched down behind them, and they retreated toward it at a run, even though the Star Fox mercenaries were calling more questions and concerns at their backs. Slippy was at the exit hatch, helping them into the belly of the cruiser, and sprinting off up the hallway they passed onto the bridge, where Erik manned the helm and eased the small starship back into the air. Immediately he relinquished the primary controls to Wolf, who maneuvered them above the magnificent city and out of the atmosphere into black, star-strewen space.

"The cruiser in question made the jump into hyperspace only three minutes ago," explained Slippy. "We intercepted a transmission Merrick sent out to the Cornerian Army Base - prepping for playback - "

As they listened, Merrick's voice echoed throughout the bridge: "_We are en route to your location. Send word to the various rogue leaders I left in contact with you. Tell them it is time to raise the rogue army, and prepare to move in on the general_."

"It's gonna be a long night," said Wolf, and gritting his teeth he urged the cruiser into hyperspace.


	14. Chapter Fourteen, The Race to Corneria

Chapter Fourteen, "The Race To Corneria" 

They met in the hallway, weighing their belts down with various weapons, thankful to be out of formal attire and back into manageable clothing. Celestra was back in her traditional black tank and flight vest, accompanied by cutoff jean shorts and those magical high black boots that were traditional repertoire for her every ensemble; Leon was turning down the collar of a black trenchcoat over mathing cargos and combat boots. Wordlessly they set off toward the hallway connecting the helm to the briefing room, and caught up with Morray, who likewise looked like himself again in a blak floorlength cloak and the wide-brimmed bolero, broadsword belted firmly around his waist. The three joined a harrassed-looking Wolf on the bridge, where Erik and Slippy were calling out strategic movements.

"We're catching up," said the mercenary commander with a snarl, "but we're being followed."

"Rogues, no doubt," Morray guessed, bitterness in his voice as they joined Wolf at the controls. "Merrick has spread the word, then."

"Three cruisers, all approaching from the rear," called Slippy, studying a schematic of nearby space. "Cornerian models, subpar speed, heavy firepowers. Paradox won't be able to hold her own against three battleships, O'Donnel."

Wolf's teeth were bared in an eternal snarl of ferocity; it was clear that he did not care for the odds. "I want you three in Arwings. Stave off the pursuit while we try to catch Merrick."

"And you?" Leon pressed, though he knew quite well what Wolf intended to do.

"I'm the commander; I stay with the ship. This cruiser wasn't meant for battle, but she'll hold her own if she needs to jump in." Wolf glanced at them over his shoulder, eyes blazing. "Get in the Arwings and get going! We won't be saving anyone if we get shot down out here!"

Turning back the three sprinted off down the hallway, with Erik's voice echoing over the intercom: "Your Arwings have been prepped and prepared for launch. The pursuit is within half a mile of the cruiser."

Wolf's voice crackled to life just as they were buckling their safety restraints. "Leon, I want you at the point - don't break formation unless it's absolutely necessary. If things get ugly out there, I'll leave Erik at the helm and join you."

"Follow my lead and keep tight," said Leon, and the Arwings shot out of the hangars and streamed backward toward the opposition. Instantly they were accosted by the rogues tailing them with cannonball-sized shots, and while the three pilots dodged and barrel-rolled they did not break formation.

"Mercenaries of Star Wolf, do not oppose the Rogue Army. You will be shown no mercy if you choose to come against Merrick. You can fight and be captured and subject to torture, or you can surrender and be killed quickly. Make your choice."

"Star Wolf doesn't surrender," replied Leon without hesitation, and he, Celestra, and Morray opened fire simultaneously on the center battleship, pummeling both wings and the underside with heavy obmion fire; the starship crippled under the onslaught and sank down below the skirmish. "Open fire when I say," Leon continued, and with a quick spin back into the middle he let fly a concussion bomb, one whose devastation explosion engulfed both ships in angry flame; bracing himself against the blast Leon cried out, "Now!"

Celestra and Morray fired on the remaining two cruisers and downed them without difficulty, and they sat back in amazement. The obmion wavebeam, with the advanced technology behind the KWEST Arwing, was frighteningly powerful. They streamed back up to flank Paradox, where they heard Wolf chuckle and say, "I don't know why I was worried. If this had been invented during the war, I could have wiped out the entire Cornerian fleet by myself."

"Don't get any ideas," they heard Slippy snap, and a few nervous snickers followed but died rather quickly. With the cruiser in the lead they pressed on, but there was still no sign of the spacecraft that Merrick had escaped in.

"I'm picking it up on the radar," said Erik. "They are an estimated two minutes ahead of us. We are already at maximum output - it is doubtful we will catch him before he enters Cornerian airspace."

"That does not matter," said Morray, "so long as we reach the general first."

They docked and hurried back to the bridge, pacing about feverishly as they continued the pursuit, and Celestra moved nearer to the control panel and gazed out. Traveling at hyperspeed was interesting to watch; at normal speeds of space travel things moved at a rather predictable pace, and it was easy to see celestial objects enlarged as they drew closer. This was not true of hyperspace travel; any stars they could have seen at normal speed were like rays of streaming light, so that the infinite blackness was streaked with beams of dazzling white. And then, between the stripes of white starlight, Celestra squinted and saw something moving at their equivalent speed, for it was not blurred as everything else was; it was distant but still clear enough to make out, and there was no mistaking it. "Wolf! Merrick's ship!"

The others crowded around the helm, wide-eyed and tense; gritting his teeth Wolf growled, "You're sure we're at maximum output?"

Erik was beside himself. "If I push it any more, the engines will blow!"

Slippy turned from the radar screen. "We're approaching Corneria! Estimated ETA is three minutes. Merrick will beat us there by a minute and a half."

"Get your weapons ready," ordered the mercenary commander, and setting the autopilot he strapped a belt around his waist that carried a pair of adamantite pistols. "If Merrick was comfortable at the Army Base, he's probably got all sorts of friends who just betrayed the Loyalists right along with him."

"It's not going to be easy, breaking into the base," said Leon from the corner. "Pepper will be well-protected, and he trusts Merrick. As soon as the fighting breaks out, we'll be everyone's target. It's unlikely that we will walk away from this."

No one said a word in agreement or disagreement, for in reality Leon had just voiced a fear that they were all contemplating. But a far better answer was to silently defy that logic with every ounce of willpower they could muster, and continue to arm themselves for the conflict that loomed inevitably on the horizon.

"Re-entering normal space speed!" called Slippy, and with barely a jolt the cruiser exited the chaotic void of hyperspace and flew into Cornerian airspace. There was no longer any sign of the cruiser within which Merrick was traveling; Celestra glanced sidelong at Morray, whose face was undeniably grim.

Erik returned then, carrying a pair of belts; he tossed one to Slippy, and the two KWEST executives quickly strapped various weapons about their persons. Wolf, for once, seemed somewhat speechless. ". . . Just what do you two think you're doing?"

"Are you kidding? You think we'll just sit on the cruiser and wait while you go off and get killed?" Slippy's hand was on a familiar-looking green blaster; Morray recognized it as the cyanide blaster Keil Ford had given him. "The General's life is at stake! You're not leaving us behind."

Erik showed no signs of relenting either, and Wolf knew there was no point in denying them their course. He eased the cruiser into a smooth yet swift descent, and glancing below they all saw signs of activity around the army base. "Loyalist or Separatist, it doesn't matter - everybody will be shooting at us, so don't hold your shots. It won't matter who we kill if we can keep Merrick away from Pepper."

The others were clustered around the exit hatch, waiting to disembark, all clutching weapons tightly, faces severe. Wolf eased Paradox to the ground and muttered, "Godspeed."

Then the exit hatch burst open and they dashed out, guns blazing.

* * *

Something was wrong; the very air was rank with tension. A transmission from a frantic-sounding Captain Anilora had fizzled and died before anything could be discerned, and now his communications seemed to be knocked out completely. Perhaps his ears were deceiving him, but he almost thought he could hear the sounds of conflict beyond the window and around the base's exterior. 

Rare were the times when well-entrenched General Aronius Pepper felt the need to raise a weapon in defense, but he did so now, calling out to the two elite guards currently standing watch outside his office as he did so. They entered immediately, as they had been trained to do, and the unthinkable happened - both trained their weapons upon the Loyalist leader, eyes cold, faces resolute.

"What is this treachery?!" he demanded, but before he could attack another handful of guards (some his own, others not) had forced themselves into his office, led by a hard-faced human shouldering a neutron shotgun.

"Put down your weapon, General, and come along quietly - there is no need for you to die so needlessly."

"And why should I surrender myself to traitors in my own base? Why should I honor any request you give me?" Pepper roared in defiance, and his finger moved to the trigger. "I have worked hard in my years as general to teach this galaxy never to surrender to tyranny, and I will most certainly uphold that creed!"

As he finished he brandished his single laser pistol; one of the soldiers blasted it from his hand, leaving the Loyalist general unarmed.

"It would be a shame if our exalted commander was neglected the opportunity to explain himself," siad the leader of the guard with a sneer, and as he spoke a few of his fellows came forward and roughly bound the general's arms behind him.

"Who?! Who is responsible for this betrayal?!" Pepper raged, thrashing against his captors, and the rogue traitors laughed.

"A veteran in your full confidence, of course - Merrick Di'mant."

It took the combined force of five of their number to drag Pepper from the room, raging with all the breath in his lungs and fighting with the strength of a thousand demons.

* * *

In the aircraft courtyard, meanwhile, battle rang out between a cacophony of Separatist rogues, Loyalist guards, and the ragtag mercenaries of Star Wolf (who now included the two executives of KWEST). It was impossible to gauge the numbers of either opposing side, for the conflict wound through the various spacecraft that dotted the fenced-in yard around the army base; crouched near the landing wheels of a Cornerian cruiser, Celestra raised her twin plasma pistols and fired on a pair of rogues who were targeting elite guards. She cursed when the men she had just rescued turned their weapons on her; she sprawled to the dirt with a grunt of irritation. Fifty feet away, Wolf laid her attackers low with his two adamantite pistols and signaled to her, and the female assassin dashed to join him, concealed beneath the wing of another cruiser. 

"They won't quit," growled the mercenary commander, glancing a shot off the engines of a distant starship that continued to idle; the craft exploded, killing all around it in the blast. "We need to get out of here and find a way inside."

"The entrances are west of here. We might be able to get there if we hug the wall and keep our heads low." As she finished Celestra set off, ducking below the wing to lead the way, and with Wolf covering the rear the pair plowed forward steadily.

Erik was further behind, firing a revolver charged with crystal filaments; each successive shot blinded whomever happened to be looking directly at the beam, so he was making quicker progress across the field. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a rogue dart out from behind a fuel bunker, leveling his weapon for the kill, but another shot fired from behind the younger Fortunan, laying low his would-be assassin. Erik nodded once in thanks in Leon's direction, but the fierce mercenary had already sprinted forward fifteen feet to engage his next target.

Furthest ahead and nearing the entrance was Sensenic Morray, covered very closely by Slippy and his deadly cyanide blaster. Each slender knife the commander-in-chief threw seemed guided by some higher power, for he never missed his intended target and was rarely opposed in recompense. Whenever it seemed a straggler was sighting Morray, Slippy would just fired the small green blaster, filling the air with deadly toxin; every man who breathed the cyanide cloud was left coughing up blood, for the compound wasted no time in destroying vital lung tissue. By that time Morray had reached the nearest entrance and was lingering in the semi-protective alcove of the doorway, barring their attackers from gaining passage and waiting for his companions, and Slippy dodged behind a protruding wingtip as a series of blasts accosted him.

Wolf leaned around his newest defensible position and cleared the way to the next, watching vigilantly while both Celestra and Erik made for it swiftly; suddenly Leon was at his side, adding to his firepower, and the two gave their comrades ample cover as they moved on ahead.

But Morray was in trouble now. While the doorframe provided him a certain measure of protection, it was no shield; more and more rogues and soldiers were noticing his somewhat vulnerable position and turning their guns on him. Firepower, consequently, was a much faster means of attack than throwing knives, and it was apparent that soon Morray would be overrun. Leon sheathed his weapons, clenched his fist around the jet ring of invisibility, and disappeared.

Momentarily isolated from the rest of the group, Slippy whipped out a very tiny gun in his free hand and aimed at a contingent of soldiers targeting Erik from behind. The kickback from the inches-long weapon nearly knocked the younger executive off his feet, but the concussive blast wiped out the entire line of soldiers in a mighty stream of laser fire. The unexpected attack gained him another defensible position, and he jogged up to join Erik and Celestra.

"I keep forgetting to add the argon filaments," he berated himself, glancing back at the dark curtain of smoke the blast had left behind.

"Somewhere, respectable Mr. Ford is laughing at you," Erik said with a chuckle, but just then some rogues noticed the cluster of three mercenaries and their conversation was ended.

Shots from every direction glanced off the doorway, driving Morray further inside with a yelp. It was becoming impossible for him to throw even a single knife unchallenged, and he knew if he continued to try his attackers would blast him to pieces and gain access to the base. Bravely he lurched out and let fly, taking a glancing blow to the shoulder before he could withdraw to safety, and he slumped back with a grimace.

They started to close in, but then laser fire started ceaselessly driving them back thirty, forty, fifty feet from the doorway; Morray squinted up, seeing nothing, but knew Leon had arrived to help him hold the entrance. Gritting his teeth in determination he leapt back to his feet, drawing more blades from his belt.

Wolf dove to the dirt, watching Celestra, Slippy, and Erik move further away from him and wishing he had some additional support. The others would be difficult to reach now; any soldiers or rogues who had somehow escaped the dash across the aircraft field were now behind him and coming up cast, and he was only one man. Whipping around he decided to deter them anyway, firing at a pace only a mercenary leader could manage, but now they could see his position and started firing back.

Erik turned and doubled back, sprinting from cruiser to cruiser until a single dash would bring him to Wolf's side; he cried out to draw attention to himself and fired without aiming, but it didn't matter - with all eyes on him, the rogues and soldiers were blinded by the crystal laser compound. Wolf, who had had the sense not to look, seized the opportunity and hurried the twenty or so feet to the older executive's position; he was limping slightly, for a shot had grazed the flesh near his achilles' tendon.

The number were at last thinning, but the battle to gain possession of the entrance was fierce. Now Leon was also injured, but that hardly slow him down, and at his side Morray was also fighting like a man possessed. With Slippy covering her, alternating blasts with the cyanide blaster and the Aggravator, Celestra could just aid them with an occasional distanced shot, but she was still too far away to add her full support. She made herself momentarily vulnerable by dashing to the next spacecraft, but the move brought her nearer the door and she began to fight back. Slippy, alone again and with his back exposed, was soon to be in peril.

Running as best he could, Wolf rushed up just in time to flank the younger executive, thus rescuing him from certain doom. With a pair of excellent shooters to cover him Erik brought up the rear, and then the three surged forward together while Celestra battled furiously for every inch. Things were just starting to look grim for Morray and Leon when she at last joined them in the narrow doorway, and with her added firepower Morray could at last fall back into the safety of the corridot within, tearing stripes of cloth to bandage his shoulder.

A cleverly placed cyanide cloud gained Slippy and Erik passage to the last cruiser before the doorway; before he could follow Wolf was cut off by a volley of shots and tripped, sprawling to the dust. The dirt around his left foot was damp with crimson blood; it was becoming increasingly difficult for Wolf to walk.

Erik had just gained the doorway, Slippy close behind, when he realized that Wolf was no longer with them. He glanced back, crying out - rogues and soldiers were closing in on the mercenary commander at a rapid pace, and he had yet to rise from the ground.

Leon shoved past, winking into the realm of invisibility again, and for a few horrible moments the others had no choice but to hold their shots for fear of hitting their unseen companion. Then twin streams of dazzling adamantite plowed the ranks of pursuers, and Wolf was limping toward them, supported by the invisible mercenary. Slippy aimed over their shoulders and fired once with the cyanide blaster, leaving another curtain of toxin in their wake; Celestra lurched forward and slammed the heavy adamantite door shut behind them, taking care to pull the latch down and secure the lock.

Immediately Erik and Slippy fell upon Wolf, bandaging his ankle as best they could while Celestra tended Leon; the diminutive mercenary nodded once to Morray, and the commander-in-chief advanced quietly down the hallway to scout ahead. He returned moments later to report that the way seemed clear so far, and with assurances from Wolf that he could walk they set off.

* * *

The rogues relentlessly dragged General Pepper to the base's massive briefing room, and upon entrance they found Merrick standing watch over the giant G-Diffuser. As they forced him closer Pepper could clearly see the screen flashing between multiple images: a fleet of ships was descending toward Katina, another upon Fortuna, Macbeth, Aquas, Zoness - Merrick turned from the screen and snickered at the general. "Welcome, Aronius. I only wanted you to see the state in which you will last see Lylat - in complete peril." 

He then gestured to the shadows, where there emerged a pair of figures Pepper had overlooked at first; Pigma and Andrew came closer and joined Merrick, who had never looked so victorious.

"Let me share with you the sweetest irony of all - the group you have been so ceaselessly hunting these past months are not your enemies at all - they include Celestra and Sensenic, who have allied with Wolf and Leon to stop me. They are probably here now, fighting to save you - that is, if they haven't been killed in the aircraft courtyard already."

Pepper roared and fought with renewed fury, attempting to throw off the rogues that held him fast, all the while cursing himself for being so blind to the truth. Merrick, Pigma, and Andrew all laughed aloud at the futility of his actions; the G-Diffuser system blinked back to Katina, where the rogue fleet was already descending upon an unsuspecting Nexxus.

"While all this is happening, Star Fox and your dear captain Anilora are at complete unawares at the Amber Spire gala. And I have no doubts that the Star Wolf team will be killed soon, overwhelmed by sheer numbers - so you see, no one will be left to even begin to organize a counterattack." Merrick seemed very pleased with himself. "I only wish you could see the fall of the galaxy, but I am no fool. You cannot be left alive."

"Damn you! Why?! How could you betray Corneria?! How could you betray Lylat?!" shrieked the general, and Merrick only chuckled.

"You must be committed to betray, Aronius, and I assure you that I never was. All I worked to gain from you over the years was purely a means to an end." Then the Rogue Leader let out a maniacal laugh, eyes gleaming, and said, "And you may damn me all you wish, but rest assured when I arrive in hell I will cast down Satan himself."

"Lord Merrick! Star Wolf! They've broken into the complex! They're on their way here!"

"Bring him," Merrick ordered, and the rogues closed in on General Pepper again as Merrick, Pigma, and Andrew made for the door. "Let him witness the deaths of his would-be saviors before he joins them."

* * *

Morray led the way down the darkened corridor, followed closely by Erik; Slippy and Wolf came a few steps behind, the mercenary commander hindered slightly but moving quicker now, and Celestra came next with Leon at the rear. They made steady progress, hastily dropping any who crossed their path, until Morray successfully brought them to the general's office; wasting no time he kicked the door in, a knife ready to throw, Erik and Wolf flanking him, but they relaxed at once. The office was empty. Instantly they filed in and conducted a search. 

"No signs of a struggle," said Celestra, and it was true; the room was in perfect order, with nothing out of place.

Slippy and Erik were simultaneously studying the G-Diffuser; the red-haired executive turned back, shaking his head. "Incoming and outgoing communications have been disabled; I'm betting he's still in the building."

"Then we need to locate him, and quickly," finished Morray tersely, and he swept out of the room, turning right and leading them toward the base's core.

They came to several crossroads, but Morray seemed to know where he was going and led them on without pause. He seemed a surprisingly different man under strain and pressure; at every intersection he leaned around the corner, always ready to throw, determination apparent in every feature, and for the first time Wolf and Leon came to understand why Gilraen Anilora had appointed this man commander-in-chief.

As they moved closer to the core their enemy numbers grew at a steady pace, and Wolf moved to Morray's side to add support, for the hallway was wide enough for both men to walk comfortably abreast. They ignored a left fork and pressed on, but Leon, still bringing up the back of the group, paused and peered through the gloom. Only Celestra noticed his hesitation, and she turned back. "What are you doing? Come on!"

"I can hear voices." Leon started down the left-hand fork alone, and with hardly a thought Celestra followed quickly.

The hall darkened even more until the pair could hardly see, then the light flared abruptly and they found themselves in the wide Cornerian docking bay. And there, a mere twenty feet away, stood Pigma, Andrew, and a cluster of rogues around a bound General Pepper.

Leon growled and was upon them in an instant, vengeance burning angrily in his dark eyes, and in that moment no amount of rogues could stop the deadly mercenary. Celestra dashed forward, her eyes on Pepper, but before she could reach him a dark figure dropped from the second level, barring her path. It was Merrick.

Quick as lightning Celestra had replaced the plasma lasers on her belt and drawn out switchblades, and the action saved her life; Merrick came at her in a rush, blades whirling, face blank and indifferent. Behind him, Pigma and Andrew turned tail and fled.

Celestra maneuvered defensively, taken aback by the speed and unbelievable skill of her opponent, and at once knew she had made a terrible mistake. There were only two people she had ever met who could even begin to come against Merrick - Reivin Frost at the height of his power, and Leon Powalski. It was difficult to keep her feet in a position of good balance, for he kept coming on stronger and stronger, each strike sending stinging reverberations singing along her fingers. Going on the offensive never even crossed her mind, and then with a single aggressive strike he had disarmed her and scored a cut along her cheek; Celestra sprawled back with a cry.

He bore down upon her, ready to strike the final blow, when she remembered the wound across his forearm and lunged for it; they tumbled down the ramp, kicking and punching and thrashing for all they were worth, until the slope ended and Merrick kicked her away toward the wall. Celestra's head reeled back and struck steel; her vision exploded into stars.

Just as Merrick was rising, knife in hand, Leon pelted down the ramp and tackled him with a shoulder-first charge. Then they were both clutching weapons and striking so strenuously that a dazed Celestra could only stare, mouth slightly agape.

The docking bay was of octagonal shape and boasted three levels above the ground floor; a door at the far north end banged open on the topmost level and Morray, Wolf, Erik, and Slippy sprinted out, far above the conflict. But there wer rogues swarming all around, and the four quickly fanned out to seek defensible positions near spacecraft. It was then that Wolf spotted the commotion below, between Merrick and Leon's close-range combat and a seemingly disoriented Celestra batting away a growing crowd of rogues, and his eyes fell upon the dead rogue closest to him and his abandoned sniper rifle.

Wolf dashed forward a few steps and skidded the rest of the distance on his knees, snatching up the weapon and tucking into a roll that sped him toward the edge and the shelter of a Cornerian Arwing. The group was closing in on Celestra when he hefted the long-distance firearm, but no one in all the galaxy was better at firing long range than Wolf O'Donnel; five shots, each carefully aimed, had downed Celestra's attackers. He turned back to the scuffle breaking out on their level, and everything seemed under control, so he prepared to fire on Merrick.

Leon was being pushed further and further back, away from the general, but Celestra's way to Pepper was now clear; she stumbled back to her feet and ran toward him, past the two fighting adversaries and back up the ramp -

And then Pigma reappeared from behind a pile of crates, a pistol in his hand; as if in slow motion he leveled the weapon, aimed, and fired. The energy bullet struck General Pepper between the eyes and he fell, already dead, into Celestra's arms.

From a distance Morray, Erik, and Slippy saw the female assassin lower him to the ground, crying out his name, tears streaming down her face; they shouted out numbly, hardly aware of their cries, as the reign of Aronius Pepper, general and leader of all the free peoples of Lylat, ended abruptly and tragically.

The mercenary commander shook his head, truly sorry for the loss, and looked back at his comrades. Only then did he see the bloodied rogue rise up from behind Morray, preparing to strike.

"DOCTOR!!!"

Morray turned, far too late; there was a brief struggle, and the rogue shoved the Fortunan commander-in-chief off the edge; he fell, banging off the second floor and past the first floor to the ground level, where he crumpled and lay deathly still.

Erik and Slippy opened fire mercilessly, eyes wild, and the rogue was incinerated in seconds; Wolf dropped the sniper and was already pelting down the stairs toward Morray. Leon and Merrick's battle was out of the base by now and the pair were battling outside, where rogues and the general's faithful soldiers still fought on. Celestra reluctantly released the general's body, laying it gently on the ground before sprinting off after Leon.

Whom she found sprawled, unconscious and bleeding, on the staircase.

Merrick joined Pigma, Andrew, and a contingent of rogues in the aircraft courtyard, where he was presented with a simple remote control. He tossed it negligently to Andrew, who cackled greedily, and with the press of a button the base detonated behind them.

* * *

It was an hour later, perhaps more, when the twisted metal wreckage of the stairwell stirred and Leon Powalski emerged, bruised and rather battered but wounded no worse than that. The way back into the army base had collapsed under the force of the explosion, and he was certain there was no way he could find a way back inside; knowing that, he doubted any of the others had survived. He was alone again, in a world of turmoil. 

He stumbled out into the aircraft courtyard to find it devoid of all life; Merrick, Pigma, and Andrew had all escaped, and now the rogue army was spreading out to conquer Lylat. Leon set off to look for a still-functioning cruiser, although he was quite unsure of what to do, and he was fifteen feet from the staircase when he heard the slightest shifting of debris from behind.

Leon dropped to his knees and began shifting the rubble away from the source of the noise, and sure enough after half a minute he had uncovered Celestra, who was coughing heavily but very much alive. He helped her out of the pile of rubble and they sat down together in the dust, panting and staring around.

Her shoulder was clearly dislocated. Leon began to talk.

"We won't be able to find a way back inside the base; if the others are still alive, we'll have to move on without them. We don't have time to waste; the war started when Pepper fell dead in there."

Celestra's face screwed up in a silent howl of agony, and her hands clenced numbly into fists at her sides, but she choked out, "We need to get to KWEST. Jak Winchester will give us everything we need to fight Merrick, and KWEST will rise and fight."

"It won't be enough. The rogues number among the thousands."

"They can't kill the entire Loyalist army; anyone who's seen the rogue fleets on the move will have told the necessary authorities. Every army will rise and fight, and so will the divisions of Arspace. We need to spread the word as far as we can, and then we can go after Merrick."

Leon couldn't help being taken aback. "We?"

"You thought I'd let you fight him alone? I could have left you behind anytime, but I - "

With one swift movement Leon had pushed her shoulder back into the socket; surprised and assaulted by great waves of agony she lurched forward, and he cradled her against his chest until her screams had subsided.

When the pair had selected a cruiser that was still in working order, Leon took the helm and glanced over his shoulder. Celestra was sprawled in the co-captain's chair, pale and tired but still alert. "To KWEST, then?"

"To KWEST." Celestra closed her eyes. "This isn't over yet."

* * *

Gritting his teeth, Wolf O'Donnel crawled over the piles of debris, ignoring the continuing throb of his ankle. It seemed to take forever for him to reach the spot he had last seen Morray fall, and when he did he slowly began to shift the rubble, praying that his friend had life left in him yet. There was a massive crumbling sound behind him, and looking up he watched Erik and Slippy approach, supporting one another as they dropped to their knees beside the mercenary commander and wordlessly set to digging. It seemed to take them forever to uncover the prone form of Sensenic Morray, but when they did they were relieved - he was still unconscious, but he was still drawing breath. 

Using what weapons they could find they were able to blast their way through to the aircraft courtyard, which was little more than ground zero after the coordination detonation; Wolf, with Morray slung over his shoulder, limped on through the charred field, Erik and Slippy in tow. They found a flyable Cornerian starship after a grueling five-minute walk, and after an interior check to be certain there were no rogues aboard they all collapsed in the control room. It was at this time that Morray came around.

If they had expected him to ask about Celestra, or Leon, or Pepper, they were very surprised; he hauled himself to his feet despite numerous injuries and slouched to the helm, firing the cruisers' engines with a single command. No one had the strength to stop him, but Wolf did ask, "Where are you taking us, old man?"

"Nexxus." Erik and Slippy's jaws dropped; even Wolf's eyes widened a little. Then the mercenary commander regained his senses and laughed out loud.

"You can't tak eus back to the capitol of Katina, you crazy old fool! Merrick sent his largest fleet there. We'll be killed in nanoseconds."

"Be silent. I can take us to Nexxus, and I shall. You have only to choose whether or not you wish to follw me. We have not yet lifted off - I can open the hatch for you." And sure enough Morray opened the exit hatch, face unforgiving. Wolf did not move for the door, so Morray closed it again. Moments later the cruiser jolted from the ground and rose up through Cornerian airspace, and at another command from the elder Fortunan the cruiser jumped immediately to hyperspace.

Wolf got heavily to his feet. "Look, I know you're messed up because Pepper got killed, and we're all worried about Leon and Celestra, but just what do you think you'll accomplish by flying us all into that death-trap?"

"I said be silent!" shouted Morray, in a voice quite unlike his own, and Wolf rocked back on his heels. "I am very aware of the futility of the situation, respectable Mr. O'Donnel, but you seem to have missed the point! I have just become of the captain of the Loyalist empire, and - " He broke off, swallowing hard, and when he finished it was in a shadow of his former voice. " - And I am not ready to become its general."

The others understood at once. He was taking them back to Nexxus to keep Anilora from meeting a fate similar to Pepper's.

"None of you have any obligation to follow me," Morray began, sounding like himself again, "but it is my duty to protect Gilraen at any cost. I was sworn in as commander-in-chief upon pledging to lay down my life for him, and to that I hold. If there is any chance that I might save him, then I must try."

Wolf heaved a great sigh, glancing over at Erik and Slippy. "Well, you heard the Captain, boys - we'd better start getting cleaned up if we want to head back into battle sooon."

The two executives nodded and exited to dress their wounds. Morray smiled softly at Wolf. "Thank you."

"Ah, shut up. Leaving you behind never crossed my mind." The mercenary leader gestured to the helm. "Full speed ahead, Captain - let's go back to Katina."

"Affirmative." Morray turned back to the control panel, breathing deeply to restore his focus, and said again, "I am not ready to become this galaxy's general. Be strong, Gilraen - I am coming for you."


	15. Chapter Fifteen, The Siege of Katina

Chapter Fifteen, "The Siege of Katina" 

The first volley of heavy electron fire crippled the Amber Spire, the capitol building of Nexxus, and the second and third waves reduced the area to mere fallout for a radius of two miles. The hundreds of people who had been attending the anniversary gala were incinerated instantly, and it was with the merciless assault on the Amber Spire that the first fleet of the Rogue Army began the siege of Katina. The streets of the city were in complete chaos; everything was aflame, and the screams of helpless innocents pierced the night.

Lylat's new general, though quite unaware of his promotion, watched it all from a high window of the Katinan Army Base with tears of hatred in his eyes. Behind him, Fox, Falco, and Bill all hung their heads with the weight of the tragedy.

"We're lucky we got him out of there when we did," muttered Falco, gesturing toward the window to indicate Anilora, and his two companions nodded their agreement.

"Why hasn't General Pepper deployed the Cornerian fleet?" asked Fox in an undertone, and his face shone with worry. "Fortuna was the first army to move, and Katt Monroe has already set Zoness into action. We would have heard if Corneria was on the move, so where are they?"

At the window, Anilora stiffened and turned to face them; his eyes were red and full of rage. "The general must not be in a position to order his fleet to move. If Fortuna has already set off to battle the rogues, then Sensenic must still be alive to order them to do so. But Aronius..."

"What are ya sayin'?!" Bill exclaimed, eyes wild.

"I am saying..." Anilora swallowed hard, then started slowly for the door. "I am saying that, given the current situation, that decision rests upon me now. Assemble the Katinan Army. I must make a distress call to Corneria City, and order its fleet to rise and fight." He swept from the room, purpose back in his step, and the three mercenaries split off down an adjoining hallway toward the core of the army base.

Anilora was readying the base's primary G-Diffuser system when Bill's voice started booming commands over the intercom: "All hands to battlestations! Katina is under attack from the east! Enemy numbers are in the mid-hundreds and moving fast across Nexxus! This is not a drill! To your ships!" Then the warning sirens began to peal, and frenzied footsteps sounded throughout the hallway. Anilora began his distress transmission.

"Corneria City, this is Captain Gilraen Anilora. I request a communications link with whoever is in charge, and implore you to deploy your army at once!"

The static cleared reluctantly, and the Katinan heard a surprising but familiar voice: "Captain, this is Peppy Hare from Arspace Division One. I have organized all soldiers I could find, but it won't be enough - the Cornerian Army Base has been completely destroyed, and the Cornerian fleet heavily decimated. I estimate our numbers to be at a quarter of their former strength."

Cold dread creeped into Anilora's insides, and he asked quietly, "But what about the general?"

Peppy's voice was strained with agony when he said, "You are the general now, Gilraen."

Anilora drew out a chair and collapsed into it heavily, numb with shock at Peppy's revelation. He had come into the world of politics under General Pepper's watchful eye at the age of seventeen, when he had been granted the position of minor lieutenant and placed in the service of then-Captain Arial LeValley. When LeValley had been assassinated Pepper had thrown all of his support behind Anilora, even though his opponent for the position of captain was powerful, well-entrenched, and influential; they had always shared the same views on how the galaxy should be governed, and Anilora knew that Pepper would never back an evil man like Zeke Necro, no matter how the people of Lylat desired him. The general had always been both mentor and friend, and Anilora had always figured another ten, even fifteen years would pass before his superior passed that title on to him. And what a time to inherit it! When Lylat was in its greatest danger yet, and all its responsibilities were thrust upon his lap!

"Oh, Aronius, I'm not ready," he muttered, drawing a shuddering breath, and he dropped his head into his shaking hand for a moment, overwhelmed and despaired.

The shouts of soldiers beyond the room's walls penetrated his thoughts, and rising unsteadily from his seat Anilora stumbled to the window overlooking the core of the base. It was filled with loyal soldiers of the Katinan Army hurrying to their ships, prepping spacecraft for use, organizing into attack and defense squadrons, and in the center of it all stood Bill, Fox, and Falco. Somehow the sight gave him hope; he backed away from the window and turned for the door.

"I may not be ready for this responsibility, but that will not stop me from fighting for this galaxy's freedom," said Anilora. "You gave your life to Lylat, and so I must do the same out of honor and respect for you. I swear to you, Aronius Pepper, that Lylat will not fall so long as I stand to defend it. And this night, Katina will again win its independence."

And with that General Gilraen Anilora exited the room, ready to lead Lylat to its next victory on the road to everlasting prosperity.

* * *

Whitewater, the grand flagship of Lylat's new general, formed a strong diamond formation with the other massive starships of the Katinan fleet and led the head-on charge into the well-organized ranks of the first fleet of the Rogue Army. Swarms of Katinan Arwings soared in droves toward the Separatists; Bill led a third of the force in to filter in-between the starships, Fox took another third in from the right side, and Falco ushered in the last third from the left and behind after running a wide circuit of the battleground. ROB, the AI in command of the _Great Fox_, was ceaselessly and monotonously running through enemy numbers, movements, and formations; the battleships open fire on the first line of the Rogue Army above the burning city of Nexxus, and the fight for Katinan began. 

Merrick hadn't accounted for the fact that the death of Aronius Pepper would spread so quickly; as it was, Anilora had shared the information with his lieutenants and they, in turn, had leaked the news to their respective squadrons. It was a serious miscalculation; the tragic story had bolstered the resolves of all the hundreds of soldiers who followed Anilora blindly and sparked in them such a feeling of rage that they seemed quite prepared to tear the entire Rogue Army apart with their bare hands if they had to. It was true that his ranks of Separatist rogues outnumbered the Katinanas, but if their ferocity held out that would hardly seem to matter.

"Fire at will," said the rogue leader tonelessly, and the front line tore into Bill's oncoming regiment with a devastating volley. The Katinan assassin ordered a return fire, organizing a counterattack, and while Merrick concentrated his fire on the immediate threat Falco played his hand. He led his formerly-circling swarm of fighter pilots in hard to the left side, blasting a massive dent in the previously-uniform formation; Merrick shouted a few quick orders and an entire section broke away from the larger fleet and rushed the mercenary's squadron so suddenly that Falco could only give the command "Shoot them!" before they were under attack.

Standing behind his pilot at the helm of _Whitewater_, Anilora watched all the happenings with a mixture of awe and distaste. "They are very well-organized; likely Merrick has been plotting this particular battle blow-by-blow for weeks, and we have only just formed ranks. We must out-think him if we hope to win." The Katinan general stepped up to the G-Diffuser system and called out, "Starship group one, widen out toward the right side! Group two, cover the left! Group three, tighten up, we're going in!"

"Fall back!" cried Merrick, but it was too late; he hadn't guessed that Anilora would attempt to combat him so forcefully or recklessly, for in all his years as a captain the man had fought his battles in a much more strategic style. Upon hearing what his general intended to do Bill called for his regiment to scatter, and the maneuver gave the tight cluster of Katinan battleships a perfect opportunity to let loose on the retreating fleet. Bill's swift-moving regiment filtered in-between Anilora's starship ranks to infest the weak points of the enemy lines, and Falco's group struck fast again before turning and fleeing to scout out another chink in the Rogue Army.

But they had been baited. Merrick's fighter pilots turned out in an almost perfect circle, firing mercilessly on the Katinans, and from within the protective ring the handful of starships rose up above their cover fire and rained down on their enemies with electron fire so devastating that the Katinans momentarily broke ranks. Fox, who had thus far been letting the warriors under his command aid wherever they felt help was necessary, called them into a block formation and rushed the rotating cluster of battleships.

It was a valiant charge, but it failed. The rogue heavy warships were in a very close formation, making them almost completely invulnerable at that particular time of attack, and when they returned fire the lines following Fox were mercilessly decimated. Katinan forces were in disarrary now, attempting to press any sort of offensive in disorganized groups of twenty or thirty, vulnerable as the protective sphere of rogue fighter pilots lanced away their shots into the darkness and Merrick's mighty starships tore into the diamond formation of Anilora's cruisers.

Sheer confusions might have spelled the sudden end of the Katinan fleet were it not for Falco, whose decisive guerrilla tactics had caused the most damage and mayhem thus far. Calling to his fellows he led a wedge formation around and down like a corkscrew, taking advantage of the only weakness in Merrick's battleship group: an assault from above. The wedge served it purpose; the unexpected maneuver severed the larger ships down the middle, forcing them to break formation or fall to a volley of relentless laser fire, and when Merrick ordered his soldiers back into defensible ranks to compensate, Fox's and Bill's respective contingents pursued them the whole way.

The Katinan starships fell into a more defensible flying pattern, and Anilora breathed an inaudible sigh of relief. Merrick's forecs were clearly well-trained, and the Rogue Leader himself was a brilliant commander. The fight would be long, he knew, and would cost many lives.

The initial blows were over now, and pilots were flying freely in order to attack anyone in sight. Regiments split until they were in very small groups, staying together only if they intended to bring down one of the larger cruisers, and the battle over the charred and choatic city of Nexxus became as a massive free-for-all. ROB finished listing off all standard AI protocol and confirmed the Katinan general's expectations: his own cruisers outnumbered those in the Rogue Army, but enemy fighter pilots in single-man craft outnumbered the Katinan Arwings. The battle raged, and while word reached Anilora that all Lylatian fleets had been deployed to combat the Separatist rogues, they were all out-strategized and ill-prepared for this sudden widespread hostility. Law enforcement and volunteers on the planet's surface seemed to be in control of the fires spreading throughout the city, but Anilora was hardly a fool - they were losing, and would likely be driven into full retreat away from the city in a few hours' time.

But as the siege commenced, no one took notice of the nondescript Cornerian cruiser that had seemingly materialized their midst.

"They mustn't realize that we've come," said Sensenic Morray to his three comrades as they picked off stragglers in their small starship. "The longer we remain unnoticed, the better, for I am sure that Merrick believes we perished in the explosion at the Cornerian Army Base."

Wolf called the Rogue Leader a long string of crude curse words then, and the others couldn't help but snicker. Erik cleared his throat when the laughter had subsided and asked, "Captain Morray, shall we three take to the sky in our Arwings? We may be of more use individually."

Morray shook his head. "It is dangerous for us to part company here; the rogue squadrons are well-led and merciless. Let us press the attack from this cruiser, and think of how we can best aid General Anilora." Erik, who was at the ship's helm, nodded and fired the engines, and they waded into the battle somewhat cautiously. Wolf blessedly gave the Fortunan captain time to think by pointing out where best they might fit in to a slightly less-seasoned Erik, and they were inadvertently offering support to Falco's regiment when they heard something rather frightening over the intership radio.

One of the largest enemy battleships opened fire suddenly and a host of screams crackled over the radio; Erik whirled them about and they saw to their dismay that the barrage had been aimed at the rear and engines of _Whitewater_. The pilot of the Katinan flagship was shouting for evasive maneuvers and cover fire, and the worst happened - the engines sputtered and died, and any Arwings rushing to help were plowed down. As the mercenaries looked on in horror an enemy transport ship ejected from the docking bay of the cruiser that had attacked and crashed into the side of _Whitewater_, where an electrically-enhanced tube attached itself to one of the rear boarding hatches.

"They are going to board," said Morray breathlessly, and his face was unnaturally pale.

"It looks like Merrick wants to pick off the figureheads one-by-one," Slippy added, and his eyes flitted in Morray's direction once before returning to the scene outside.

"This tub of rust can't take on that cruiser alone, which we'll find out the hard way if we open fire on that transport ship," came Wolf's voice from behind them, "so we've only got one option - " Morray turned to face him and found the mercenary leader had already donned his weapons, and was holding out the belt upon which Morray's broadsword was sheathed. "We'll have to go in and get your dear general out the hard way."

Morray was strapping the belt to his waist before Wolf had even finished his statement, and Erik was halfway through announcing "I'll bring us in closer." The Fortunan captain and the mercenary commander sprinted off down the hall toward the entrance of their own electrical boarding tube, Slippy's voice shouting the movements and numbers of their enemies in their ears, and as the boarding tube electrically grounded itself to another of Whitewater's entrance hatches Wolf grabbed Morray's wrist and held him fast.

"I'll go alone," he muttered gruffly, and Morray gasped aloud in surprise and amazement. "Lylat's going to need you if this doesn't go well, old man."

Morray could scarcely believe what he was hearing and found he greatly admired his companion, but his appreciation did not turn him away. "No - we fight together."

And Wolf's face broadened into a smile, the first true smile Sensenic Morray had ever seen the man display, and in an instant it had melted back into grim determination as he turned and blasted the steel door out of their path.

* * *

"This cruiser is huge," said Wolf irritably only five minutes later, when he and Morray had passed the same janitor's closer for the third time. "How in the hell are we supposed to find Anilora in all this? The rogues could have already found him by now." 

"Your optimism is heartening," Morray shot back sarcastically, glancing all around and trying to re-trace his steps. "I have not set foot in this cruiser for three-quarters of a year; obviously I do not remember my way around. What do you propose?"

"That we look for a bunch of bad guys to follow." Signaling to his companion with one of his electron pistols the mercenary leader led the way around another corner and steered them generally west - Morray was hissing disapprovingly in an instant.

"This direction is opposite the bridge, you dolt!"

"You're right. That means we should reach the bridge - we've been going toward it for almost ten minutes and we haven't found it yet." Wolf winked at the Fortunan captain, who continued his fussing, and said, "Reverse psychology."

As he finished the pair rounded a sudden corner and found themselves in the center of four intersecting hallways, the other three of which seemed to be swarming with rogues. Always preferring the direct approach, Wolf leaned around the corner of the wall and opened fire on the adversaries to his left; as if on autopilot, Morray crouched and let fly with a pair of scalpel-like throwing knives, burying them in the chest of the leading man and dropping him with a little spurt of blood.

"Lovely," said Morray, and he wrinkled his nose.

In their haste they had completely neglected the most favorable angle of attack for their enemies, and the result was a barrage from the man in front, who was the only one down that particular corridor who seemed to be armed. They were very lucky that the man's aim was so poor; as it was, the entire volley whizzed between the two mercenaries and left little scorch marks on the wall where the hall curved away behind them.

By this time Wolf had eliminated all opposition stemming from the left and turned to the right, and in a spur of daring Morray drew out his broadsword and dashed across the intersection to meet the remaining rogues head-on. As he ran forward the masked figure at the front of the line fired once, striking Morray in the shoulder, but the Fortunan captain had learned what it was to be mentally strong and willed himself to move through the pain; his first swing lopped off the arm that held his enemy's blaster at the elbow, and his sweeping backswing severely lacerated the rogue's midsection. The other two were unarmed and thus bery disinclined to stand and fight; Morray struck a glancing blow at one with his weapon's sharp tip, and they turned and fled. Wolf came up behind him then, having dispatched the rest, and studied the captain's wound, which thankfully was barely seeping blood. He patched it anyway with a bit of fabric torn from his flight vest, and they set off after the rogues that had run away in fear.

"How do you know which way to go? Are you guessing?" asked Wolf when Morray rounded the next corner without pausing to comtemplate the way. Morray pointed to the ground, and sure enough there were a few spatters of blood from the injured rogues to lead them in the right direction.

* * *

Outside, the battle raged in favor of the rogues. No one had noticed the two ships that seemed to have latched themselves permanently to either flank of the Katinan general's flagship, but Bill did notice a very strange-looking Arwing skirting through the clouds of soldiers. It was one of the craft he and his fellow mercenaries had been pitted against two days ago, there was no mistaking it - it was one of the _Myst Beta_ prototypes from KWEST. 

Thankfully Bill was intelligent enough not to go public with his sudden realization; instead he worked to establish a private communications link with the small Arwing and said, "Who's that?"

"Ah, you've caught me," came Slippy's voice, and he maneuvered closer to Bill's _Myst Alpha_ spacecraft and the two shot off together, launching shots whenever they could without endangering the Katinans. "Listen, Bill, don't panic, but rogues have cut power to Anilora's cruiser and infiltrated after him. They're on board now, but Wolf and Sensenic went in after him."

Bill swallowed hard but did as he was told, instead asking, "Slip, is it true what they say... about General Pepper?"

The younger executive heaved a sigh; the grief he felt for the loss of a long-time superior and friend had not yet surfaced - he had pushed it into the back of his mind so he could focus. Now was not the time to grieve. "I saw it with my own eyes - Pigma shot him, and the Army Base was sabotaged and destroyed."

"What about Celestra? Erik and Leon? Where are they?"

"I honestly don't know what Erik's doing now," said Slippy with a sudden frown, and when his thoughts turned to Celestra and Leon he felt his heart lurch with agony and finished "This isn't a battle we can win, Bill. We're outnumbered, and it's clear that Merrick has been planning every movement for months. The top priority now is to wait 'til Sensenic and Wolf smuggle Anilora off of _Whitewater_, and then order a retreat away from Katina."

"W... What?" Bill's face fell incredulously. "You want us to... surrender?!"

"Think, Bill! Don't make a bad decision just because this is your home!" Slippy stopped talking momentarily and tore away after a few rogue stragglers, firing madly and chasing them until he had shot them all down; he returned to find Bill in a similar position, and the pair skirted away as a score of their enemies targeted them and boosted their thrusters to follow. As they fled the younger executive continued, "We've got to regroup, far away from here! If we stay, hundreds of lives will be lost. Our first priority is to protect General Anilora, and then to return here when we know we can win."

"Return here with what? Our invisible reserve army?" snapped the Katinan assassin.

Slippy didn't answer directly; his eyes were on the line of Separatist battleships, fanning out to begin the next stage of the rogue onslaught. "Forget about that for now. Retreat is inevitable, but I'm prepared to give these guys all kinds of hell before we go."

And he increased his Arwing's engine output to maximum, striking a path for the cruiser on the far right side; Bill did not hesitate for even a second, and they bore down upon the heavily-armored starships with hatred in their hearts.

* * *

Pistol in hand, face full of cold rage, Lylat's new general prepared to make his final stand as the last of the Katinan soldiers died defending him on the bridge. A group of eight or so rogue warriors filtered in, all with weapons raised and ready to strike, and when one of them shouted for him to drop his weapon and allow himself to be bound, Anilora only tightened his hold on the compact electron pistol and settled his finger firmly upon the trigger. 

"Come now, General Anilora. You do not want to die as needlessly as your predecessor."

The statement struck a chord of inexplicable fury within the young Katinan general, so much so that his whole body grew taut and trembled with barely constrained anger. "I would consider it an honor to die defying you, in much the same manner as Aronius did, for I am certain that he fought with the strength of a thousand demons."

"He died begging Lord Merrick to spare his life," another of them sneered, and a collective spattering of laughter resounded throughout the room.

"How dare you attempt to belittle the death of the greatest man ever to fight for freedom!" roared Anilora, and he fired his first shot just as a figure exploded into motion from the shadows of the doorway behind the rogues. The light caught the flat of a gleaming, magnificent broadsword as it arced downward and cleaved a skull in two, two eyes of sapphire mischief glittered beneath the brim of a black bolero, and Anilora could hardly believe that Sensenic Morray had come again to rescue him.

His disbelief increased tenfold when three rogues bearing blades backed a fiercely-battling Morray into a corner and a second figure darted forward - that of Wolf O'Donnel, who seized Anilora's wrist and started for the door, half-dragging the bewildered Katinan general. Pushing Anilora down the hall the mercenary leader turned back, timing his shots perfectly so as not to hit Morray with the laser bullets. The two worked in such perfect tandem that Anilora could only stared; Morray pelted for the doorway, pushing past the two of them and leading the way off the bridge.

The rogue forces that had infiltrated _Whitewater_ were not so numerous, though, and thankfully the two mercenaries had no further difficulties in escorting Anilora to safety aboard the nondescript Cornerian cruiser, where Erik Nioxin awaited them tensely at the helm. They waited until the older executive had sealed off the electrically-attached tube and jettisoned the artificial corridor off into space, then Wolf flung his belt into a corner and collapsed into the co-captain's chair. "All in a hard days' work, boys."

"Agreed." Morray let Erik remove the crude bandage tied about his arm and study the wound before continuing, "And we seem to have lost Slippy."

Erik was spreading a pasty white salve on the Fortunan captain's laser bullet wound. "He just took one of the _Myst Beta_ spacecraft to aid our fellows; I daresay they needed it."

The three of them looked over at Anilora, who had remained silent since his rescue; his hands were twisting spasmodically in his lap, and his face was ghastly pale. Morray took matters into his own hands. "Erik, boot up the G-Diffuser system; I must order a full- scale retreat away from here. Let the Rogue Army take Nexxus for now - we will return, replenished and strong, and take it from them."

The official retreat orders went out only four hours after the Katinan fleet had begun their counter-attack; casualties were catastrophic in the short time period, as an estimated one-fifth of the fleet had been obliterated and Merrick's forces hardly seemed affected at all. The rogues did not give chase to drive them away from Katina, as the Loyalists had thought they would; instead they began infiltrating the capitol city and putting out the fires blazing in the streets.

"Merrick's thought out every single move," said Wolf an hour or so later, when it was clear that their escape route would not be challenged from behind. "He'd rather set up a ground base and start regrouping than pursue and kill a few more soldiers. Even Reivin Frost wouldn't have passed up an opportunity like this."

The mercenary commander cut a very imposing figure, standing near the window, profile in shadow; Fox, Falco, Bill, and a still-rattled Anilora were all seated at various positions in the briefing room, looking lost and tense; Erik and Slippy were bickering quietly in a corner near the doorway, and Morray paced furiously back and forth at the front of the room, hands behind his back and brooding. For the past quarter of an hour they had been discussing a possible rendezvous with the now-unified Cornerian and Fortunan fleets, but no decision had been made and an unidentified report had announced that enemy numbers were growing within the asteroid field, which they would have to pass through if they wished to reach those fleets as soon as possible. They were just gaining momentum into what promised to be a very heated argument when Erik stepped forward and interrupted delicately, "I beg your pardon, but Slippy and I have something that we would like to share with you."

Anilora looked up, haggard and worried and strained but still rather alert, and motioned for the older of the two KWEST executives to share. Erik cleared his throat carefully. "We did not wish to divulge this information as it is, technically, illegal, but we would like to offer you full use of all reserves of the KWEST army."

Morray was so taken aback that his rhythmic pacing faltered; Fox and Falco, who had been sitting helplessly with heads in hands, perked up immediately, eyes wide. Anilora rose slowly. "What?!"

"We didn't want to keep it a secret!" Slippy wailed, moving forward to defend Erik. "We just know that General Pepper wouldn't have approved. See - we heard from a few of the former Metgiacon employees that that technological enterprise had raised its own secret army, but government officials caught word of it and threatened to shut the entire place down if the fleet didn't disband. We knew it wasn't right, but we wanted to organize a defensive... in case the galaxy ever went on high alert again."

"This army of yours," stammered Anilora," exactly how many...?"

"Men does it contain?" finished Erik for him, and he and his companion exchanged a glance. "We do not have an official count, but perhaps... oh, I am not certain... six thousand soldiers?"

Wolf, who had been idly sipping coffee up to that point, was suddenly overcome by a severe coughing fit.

"Erik... Slippy... you are telling me that you command an army nearly as big as my own within the walls of your enterprise?" said Anilora in exasperation.

Simultaneously, the two executives nodded slowly.

Wordlessly the Katinan general motioned to the G-Diffuser system at the helm, and at a prompting from Erik the red-haired executive accessed the communication device. "KWEST personnel, this is chief executive Slippy Toad, give the order for the KWEST armed forces to assemble and meet the Katinan army in orbit around Fortuna, immediately."

The response floored them all. "I apologize, fhief executive, but the KWEST army was deployed several hours ago with specific orders to take back planet Katina."

"What?!" cried Erik, rushing forward in protest. "Who ordered that course of action?!"

"Jak Winchester, sir, at the suggestion of Celestra Marquette and Leon Powalski."


	16. Chapter Sixteen, The Many Faces of

Chapter Sixteen, "The Many Faces of Leon Powalski" 

The group comprised of Morray, Wolf, Slippy, and Erik were unbelievably lucky in their endeavors. The partnership that was Celestra and Leon, however, were not.

Cornerian airspace was nothing short of a nightmare. Leon supposed that, had they just wanted to exit the atmosphere, their mission would have been quite simple; the problem was that they were only traveling cross-planet to K'yorin from Corneria City, and rogue presence above and on the surface of the planet was very high. It was not very long before enemy ships spotted their uncharacteristic movements, and as they were being closely followed Leon recognized only one option left to them. Celestra was lacing up her combat boots when he announced over his shoulder to her, "If we hope to survive, we can do only one thing now."

Celestra knew at once that she would hardly care for the suggestion. "Which is what?"

"Land the ship here, let them board us, and engage them in hand-to-hand combat."

"What?!" Celestra leapt to her feet. "We'll be killed!"

"Not necessarily. If I know Merrick, he'll have issued orders for his lieutenants to take us alive, simply because he has a personal score to settle with me and he will hope to use you as bait to lure in Anilora and Morray. We're far too valuable to him: if we fight this out in the air, we'll be easily overpowered, but if we play to our strengths, we at least have a chance." Leon re-aligned the cruisers' rear cameras to find five stealth ships closing in, and finished, "We have no other choice, Celestra. We're horrendously outnumbered either way, but the way I see it, we'rve both been horrendously outnumbered before."

He glanced back at her, she was strapping on her utility belt and looking straight back at his expectantly. Leon set the cruiser into auto-land mode and gathered his own weapons, similarly equipping his person for this new dangerous task. When their tiny ship jostled to a landing position, Celestra strode to the interior ship consolde and extinguished all the lights, plunging them into darkness and saying, "I'm not going to make this easy for them."

From the deep shadows to her left, Leon chuckled wickedly, "I quite agree."

Then from the eerie silence not so far away, the entrance was forced open roughly and the door clanked off its hinges; Leon's and Celestra's hands darted to their belts and whisked out a pair of switchblades each, steeling themselves for the fight, bolstering their resolves, tapping into that calm and confident state of mind that only a seasoned killer possessed. Soft voices echoed down the steel corridors, cursing the lack of light; footsteps shuffled closer, and and even a few flashlights clicked on to sweep the dark halls. Two unsuspecting rogues stumbled into the control room then, and Celestra, bidding her boots to be silent with a thought, quick-stepped forward and slashed out the vocal cords of one before burying her second blade in his heart and lowering his body soundlessly to the floor; the other could never have seen Leon coming, for the cunning mercenary had invoked the invisibility properties of the jet ring he wore and snapped the man's neck in a single quick maneuver. The deaths were silent and sudden; no rogues were alerted, and Celestra ducked back into the shadows of the doorway.

Leon advanced, silent as the specter of death, into the primary hallway to better guage their enemies' numbers. Only three others were visible at the moment, two of them with flashlights, but he could hear many more stumbling through the cruiser's many passages. He dared to move forward to meet them, hands prepared to bring those cruel knives of his to bear, but bodies in the hallway would be difficult to overlook. Leon retreated instead, whispering to Celestra to stay alert, and just then a shaft of light pierced the shadows of the bridge and the tense trio filed into their presence.

As the rogues were clustered rather close, Leon was able to slit the throats of two simultaneously, but the one remaining uttered a little cry before Celestra ended his life. They could have perhaps remained undiscovered for a while longer, but a flashlight slipped from a lifeless hand, crashed to the floor, and went rolling away into the nearest wall. All movement, footsteps, and quiet collaboration throughout the cruiser halted abruptly as the rogues listened intently, and Leon cursed their rotten luck wordlessly to himself.

"And now," he murmured to her, as the rogues began again their pursuit of them, "we must deal with this threat."

He stepped out into the dark corridor again, keen eyes now fully adjusted to the near-total blackness, and a group of six rogues were moving in the direction of the helm, with far more purpose than their late fellows. They had pinpointed the source of the noise, then, and with it had discerned the positions of their prey. There was nothing else for it - Leon lifted his adamantite pistol and fired with unyielding abandon, mowing them down while they were still at unawares.

Several of them dropped, but Leon had willingly sacrificed a last shred of secrecy and the element of surprise for their deaths; those who had survived the initial one-man volley called out to still more of their comrades, and one of the ones at the back of the group got up a handgun and returned to fire. The still-invisible mercenary dodged fluidly and flattened himself defensively up against the wall, finger still heavy upon the trigger, but the others were readying weapons now.

His cover nearly blown, Leon retreated back to the control room where Celestra had wisely stayed behind and bolted the door behind him in a final defense. Leon dismissed the invisibility momentarily then and exchanged a glance with his companion; both sets of eyes were wild and desperate, at last fearful of the situation, but neither were willing to lay down arms and surrender.

Shouts issued from beyond the door, and the first pounding fist echoed like the tolling of a judgement bell.

And Leon and Celestra stood tall shoulder to shoulder, pistols held at the ready, determined to fight valiantly, should this be their end. No words were spoken, as men facing their mortal fate tend to do when the end is near, but in the moment, each felt for the other a strong sense of respect, trust, and eternal kinship.

The pounding was insistent now, and the door banged open. Both mercenaries opened fire, but dismay crossed both faces when they recognized just how many foes they had to face. Together they shot down the oncomers, but others were firing as well, and Celestra and Leon harbored no doubts that this was a fight they were destined to lose. The first bolt took Leon in the shoulder, and the next bit deeply into Celestra's shin; the pair buckled, grimaced in agony, gritted their teeth in stubborn resolve, and continued their relentless fire. And while the bodies of their adversaries continued to mount, the pair were fast tiring... and slowly falling victim to the multitude of minor injuries inflicted upon them.

The rogues gained entrance to the room; another shot hamstrung Leon, and he collapsed with a cry of pain and rage. And Celestra kept firing, breath shallow, muscles straining, exerting all she was worth.

Leon lost consciousness then, and Celestra never even saw the gun battel as it cracked down on the back of her head and dropped her like a stone.

* * *

The melancholy shifting of chains and the dull throbbing of her temple drove Celestra back into a groggy state of consciousness. There was no way to tell how much time had passed, or to discern any precise location, and when she attempted to move she was hardly surprised that her mobility was limited. Chained manacles held her arms out wide and kept her suspended a few inches above the stone floor; the only light was the dim illumination of a single hanging, grime-encrusted bulb. She was becoming increasingly aware of the strain her bonds placed on her shoulders, and of the dull ache emanating from the lump on the back of her head, when she thought suddenly of Leon and turned her head sharply to look for him. He was hanging limply in similar straits, his head lolled forward onto his chest, his eyes closed. Celestra sighed and tried not to panic.

There was no sound beyond the door of the grimy room, though she could not be certain if their captors were silent or the door was thick enough to muffle any voices. After running through every remove escape possibility she came to a very unsettling conclusion: no one knew where to find them, so it was useless to hope for some sort of rescue. They were on their own.

Celestra slumped back against the rough stone wall, trying not to focus on the dull ache in her head, back, and shoulders. The laser wound sustained to her shin was not serious, but still burned when she shifted her leg, and after studying Leon's shoulder she deduced the same of his injury. She was just beginning to wonder when and where they would inevitably have to face Merrick when she was startled out of reverie by Leon's voice. "They came while you were unconscious. We're to be held here above Corneria while Merrick sets up his seat of power in Nexxus."

She was shocked and puzzled by the tone of his voice; he was strained, anxious, and frightened, emotions Celestra had never known Leon to feel. Turning to look to him, she saw a strange light in his eyes - not the confident malice she was accustomed to, but the dawning sickness of a man suffering defeat and turmoil. Celestra couldn't imagine why he looked so different, or what he was feeling, but remembered the last time she had pressed him for details and held her tongue.

Leon was silent for a time, eyes rimmed with quiet, unspoken despair, and when he felt Celestra's concerned gaze upon him he closed his eyes. Then he seemed to struggle within himself, and at last began to speak; his voice was a bit more cool and even, as was generally the case. "When Merrick arrives, he will interrogate you for Loyalist fleet movements and figurehead whereabouts. If you refuse, he will merely torture you to within an inch of your life, until you can hardly move, breathe, or speak... and then he will ask you again. The cycle will continue, until either you relinquish the information he wants or you can no longer endure the torment. And so I will ask of you - deny him to your last. Offer him nothing, for he will only use it to destroy your beloved republic. Choose death, rather than betrayal. Can you do this for me?"

Slowly, as though curious as to why he would demand such a peculiar thing from her, Celestra nodded. But he had not finished.

"You should know that Merrick Di'mant, in addition to being ruthless, is also eternally patient. Denial to him is only a temporary thing, and something that can be easily converted to obedience, given time and torture. He will stop at nothing to get what he wants, and will resort to punishments you can barely begin to imagine. So I will ask you for the last time - is this something you can do for me?"

"Of course." Celestra's answer came without hesitation, but now she had the courage to press him for an answer. "Why are you even asking me to do this? He'll be torturing us both."

"No." Leon's voice was flat and emotionless, barely a fragment of its former strong conviction. "I will not be around to ensure that you keep your promise; I can only hold you to your word."

She didn't want to ask; she wanted to leave the statement unaddressed, as she knew she should, but Celestra dreaded a lack of resolution more than the answer. "Where will you be?"

"I'll be dead." There it was, with such finality that Celestra's throat constricted with fear and sorrow. "Merrick has wanted me dead for these four long years. He will not hesitate to end my life now."

Celestra could scarcely believe how troubled she was at the mere mention of Leon's Powalski's death, a man whom, only eight months, ago she had hated unconditionally. She almost allowed herself to cry, but knew that, having promised to defy Merrick to her death, she needed to display that strength now. There were no words she could even begin to offer, thus Celestra let the revelation hang in the air between them like a foul stench.

"I would ask one more thing of you," Leon began again, when the silence became unbearable.

"Anything." Celestra's heart was fully committed to the word.

Leon opened his mouth, but did not speak right away. Rather he seemed to ponder something unpleasant - indeed, his eyes seemed to be gazing at something she could not see - and as though thinking better of it, he closed his mouth again. Then he started again, tentatively, to reveal every answer to every forbidden question Celestra had been dying to ask.

"My mother never expected to become pregnant with me. For as long as I can remember, she had always been ill, so the mere notion that she should ever conceive was laughable. Although her health was fair at best, she refused to give up the child, and I was born prematurely in midwinter, in the bowels of West K'yorin.

"The man responsible for my birth was Leon Powalski senior. He was the epitome of a terrible father - he would not pay for professional care, even though my mother's condition worsened daily; he was largely responsible for all the illegal substances imported and exported into and out of the city, and the money he made from that only continued to fuel the needs of a hopeless alcoholic. I don't remember ever seeing him sober, but I doubt it would have made any difference.

"We lived with him, but my mother and father never married." Leon paused for a moment, and his eyes glittered with momentary reminiscent bliss. "How my mother loved him! She was foolish, of course - he was a foul, terrible man - but she loved him. I think it was her blind devotion to him that kept her alive through it all..."

"All of what?" Celestra's voice was barely audible; her face was blank, her eyes spellbound. Leon's expression darkened into one of blatant hatred as he continued.

"Under the influence of constant drink, my father was an abusive madman. My mother was hardly strong enough to protect herself, and her weakness made her victim to his rage. I remember burn scars on her body... horrendous gashes from broken glass... he even tried to drown her once. Her body was mutilated, and each day held some new torment for her: I am uncertain how she survived it. And when I was old enough to understand that what he was doing was wrong, I became his new target. Half of the scars on my body are injuries I sustained from him, and not from any battle I fought later in life. It was a living hell - I had always been small for my age, and my mother couldn't even fend for herself, let alone me.

"When I started school, it was hardly a safe haven for me. I was of slight build, and was instantly the target of much larger boys, and the teachers often disciplined them but it ws never put to a stop. In West K'yorin, tales of alcoholic and abusive parents were hardly a rarity, so there was no use hoping that one day the necessary authorities would arrive and bring my father to justice. Every day I was bullied by my peers, every night I was subject to my father's beatings, and the worst thing was knowing that no reprieve would come, that day after day, this would ever be my life.

"Without the knowledge of my parents, I stopped going to school. I was highly intelligent - I hardly had to apply myself to exceed all expectations - but the constant ridicule that coming from a poor, dysfunctional family had awarded me was not worth any academic benefit. So instead of being confined to the walls of education and mediocrity, I gained my first bit of freedom. The streets in West K'yorin became my safe haven during the day - and my playground.

"I was young - only eleven, actually, when I dropped out of school - but I learned my true skills in the alleys and dark places of Corneria's most dangerous city. It was while running for my life from criminals that I mastered the unwavering focus necessary to call up and sustain my innate chameleon abilities of invisibility; I learned patience can award you far more than rash action, and that the stronger and larger do not necessarily have the advantage. My powers, while raw and unhoned, were valuale ones; concentration and patience, stealth and speed, intellect and dexterity. The problem was that, when faced by my father, everything I had taught myself seemed useless and unattainable. I was still powerless against him, and my mother's health was still on the decline.

"And then I met Zak."

Leon paused again and took a few deep breaths; it was obvious that continuing the tale was taking all of his willpower and taxing his strength. Celestra could only stare at him, horrified by all she had heard, infuriated at Leon's father, but mostly feeling an all-consuming sense of pity. Leon cleared his throat. "I was frequenting one of my secret haunts one day when I saw one of my ex-teachers walking home from the education center. Her name was Miss June - she was the only person I had never hated, and the only person who had not looked down her nose at me in contempt. She was beautiful, compassionate, and righteous. But people like that never survive in West K'yorin. A group of thugs stopped her on her way down the alley and got rough with her, and when it was clear that she would not cooperate, one of them put a gun to her head and shot her.

"In that moment all of my suppressed rage, all of my pain and loneliness and unfairness that had governed my childhood, was suddenly at the surface. I dropped from the rooftops to face them, knowing only anger, forgetting that to be foolish is to die. And I would have, were it not for Zak.

"Zak was the leader of one of the most prominent street gangs, called the Rakers. Fortunately for me, the thugs who had murdered Miss June were members of a rival gang called the Jackals. Zak and his gang brothers made short work of them, and Zak took me under his wing. My life changed completely from that day forward as I took my first step away from young vigilante toward disciplined street fighter. "I mentioned being quicker than most - Zak taught me how to use an opponent's speed against him. I mentioned being stealthy - Zak taught me how to disappear in the middle of the day under full glare of the sun. I learned how to handle a gun, crude as they were back then, and upon turning twelve I could kill a cockroach on the side of a dumpster from two rooftops away. I could listen to three conversations at once without missing a single detail, and of the importance of listening instead of speaking. I learned how to sublimate negative emotions, or channel them into my training to make me stronger, and at last, I learned the beauty and art of battling with knives.

"I chose the switchblade as my weapon of choice because it was small, quick, and deceptive, as I saw myself. Often the other Rakers told me I fought like a man possessed, or some sort of demon, for as soon as Zak had taught me all the combat basics I was competent and skilled enough to learn the more difficult maneuvers without further coaching.

"As Zak's right hand in the gang, it wasn't long before I became untouchable on the streets. I was only just about to turn thirteen - I was still a child, really - but my name was already being whispered throughout West K'yorin with fear and reverence. The Rakers began to expand their boundaries. "I rarely returned home during my training, though occasionally I would tread the streets not far from it. I was turning into a completely different person; I was no longer petrified of the world, innocent, or powerless - I was dangerous, strong, capable, and, by all accounts, wicked. But I couldn't return yet - it would destroy my mother to see me this way, and some part of me still wasn't prepared to face my father on even ground, as an equal or a superior.

"After a year of faithful service to my mentor and friend, Zak, the Jackals declared open gang war upon the Rakers. I had no doubts we could handle them, but I did not take into account the possibility of a clever betrayal. It was only my blind loyalty to my leader, my only friend, that brought about my defeat. "I was given the task of infiltrating the Jackals' primary base of operations, a warehouse only a few blocks from our southernmost boundary. My role was simple - estimate the numbers of the opposition and return later with a group of shock troops capable of eliminating all of them. I had no intention of disobeying - I never had - for though I had been exposed to much during my years on the streets I had never fallen victim to treachery. I was preparing to exit the way I had come in when I saw him - Zak, my friend, my confidante, standing in the window, holding a detonator. And with his eyes on mine he threw it into the warehouse and disappeared.

"I'm not sure how I survived; in fact, the next thing I remember is limping down the alley and back toward the Rakers' headquarters. And all the time it took me to return I wondered - had I disappointed him in some way? Had I displayed some disloyalty? The thoughts tortured me, for I had never been disobedient and I had loved Zak like a brother, but when I arrived and hid in the shadows to listen I learned the truth.

"Zak was threatened by me. Apparently he feared a mutiny within the gang, and that I would overthrow him and assume power. And so he had conspired to kill me, and believed he had; I even learned that the war against the Jackals was only a lie, and had been created only to bring about my assassination.

"This new knowledge nearly destroyed me. What injustice had I caused, to have deserved such sudden betrayal? How could Zak, the only friend I had ever known - the only man I had ever trusted - turn on me without any real proof of a conspiracy against him and attempt to end my life? Surely I had shown far more loyalty than that? It drove me mad. It drove me to anger... it drove me to hate, and at last, to revenge."

Leon's voice was as it had been since he had started the tale - flat, hollow, and emotionless. And Celestra wept to see the old buried sorrows of his past laid bare, to see the pain and torment at last breach the surface, to understand exactly how Leon Powalski had become so cruel, so heartless, so evil. "I spent the next day resting, gathering my strength, but most of all, feeding on the parasitic seed of evil now planted deep within my heart. I knew somehow that it would be that awful thing that I needed most now, and without it I would surely not be strong enough to defeat those who had wronged me. And when night fell... I came for them.

"There was no trick, and no deception; I merely walked into the Rakers' warehouse, prepared for the fight. And one by one they fell to me, until only Zak remained. He begged for his life, but it was already too late. I killed him and set the building ablaze - no... not just the building - I set fire to all of the Rakers' territory they had acquired through using me. And as I watched the first rays of sunlight dawn upon all that I had done, I realized I was no longer afraid. If I could pay Zak back for his wrongdoings, I could handle a coward like my father.

"And so... I went home.

"When I walked in, he had been intoxicated for hours. My poor, frail mother was laying, crumpled and bleeding, against a wall, and my father was standing over her with a stump of wood torn from the leg of an endtable. When he noticed me standing in the doorway, knives in hand, an expression of such terror crossed his face...

"I didn't just kill my father - I mutilated him beyond recognition. In that moment I was an animal, a monster, and I could think only of every hurt that littered my childhood. But the worst thing of all... was when I turned to my mother..." Leon's voice faltered; his eyes were overbright. "In her eyes there was such fear, such utter revulsion... I realized just how pathetic she was, a waif and a disgusting sight, and for her to look at her only son, her savior, with such loathing... It drove me over the edge. I killed her, too."

Celestra wept openly now; Leon hung his head, ashamed, tormented, fighting back the lump of self-loathing and the white-hot tears burning the backs of his eyes. Then he began again, for the tale was not near its end.

"After that, I cared not for who I killed. I killed on my own whim, and at my leisure, and anyone who came against me only died in my futile attempt to sate my wrath. West K'yorin bowed before me; I ruled the streets of vast Corneria as a remorseless killer who murdered for sport and pleasure. When the top ten men from the Corneria's Most Wanted list all hailed from West K'yorin, I led them, but my slaughter had no direction or purpose.

"And then, one day... Wolf O'Donnel came looking for me, by personal order of Andross himself. I was living in the charred shell of warehouse that I myself had destroyed when he first came to visit me, and though I listened to what he had to say I had no intention of returning with him to Venom. The deceptions of Zak still lingered far too close to the surface, and I doubted I would ever trust again, and the irrational murder of my mother still haunted my dreams. But Wolf was patient and persistent, and continued to come and talk with me.

"I was no nearer to trusting him, but he made me realize that, avenged as I was, there was nothing left in West K'yorin for which I should remain. Wolf convinced me that at Andross's side I could find purpose again, not blind rage, but an outlet for the dark talents that so dominated my life. Most importantly, he told me that I did not need to trust, only to work for a cause in which I already believed - the obliteration of people like my father and Zak. Wolf was just like me, after all - he had been betrayed once too, and knew what I had been through. So I at last left my home, the only place I had ever seen in fourteen years, and journeyed with Wolf to Venom.

"In those days, Pigma Dengar was some kind of hero among the Separatists; he was the great traitor, the man who had deceived the whole of the Loyalist empire and murdered the great James McCloud, but the moment I met him in person I hated him. He betrayed people daily, he had loyalties to no one, but above all, he committed crimes such as the one Zak had done unto me without batting an eye. It was his business, and somehow business was always good. But he was too cowardly to betray Andross, of course - people like Pigma need someone to leech off of.

"But while Pigma betrayed for money, Merrick Di'mant practiced the same philosophy merely because he enjoyed it. When I met him, he stirred up the embers of fear that I thought had been quenched with my fathers' death; in his eyes I saw the same superior malice that my father always had, only Merrick needed no sense-altering drink to bring it out. It was in his nature, and it gave him power. He terrified me.

"The exhibition match between him and master-assassin Reivin Frost showed me the vital difference - Merrick was like my father and Zak in every way, except that he had the power to kill me. When Andross ordered Merrick's exile from Venom, my worst fears were confirmed. I cannot defeat him, even now, because he is the embodiment of my past. While I see him as the shadow of what has passed, I cannot defeat him, because that shadow still holds sway over me.

"And now you know, Celestra Marquette," Leon finished, defeat in his voice and agony in his eyes. "Now you know how I became this awful monster that you have spent four years of your life trying to kill." Then a single diamond tear fell from an anguished onyx eye, then another, and all was silent as he cried.

Celestra knew she should say something, but knew also that there were no words that could even begin to comfort him, or bring closure to the situation. She could only stare back at him, tears streaking her dirt- and blood-stained cheeks, and despair to see him so agrieved; Leon hung limply in his steel chain bonds and sobbed as he could never remember sobbing in all his life of torment. But in that moment, when Leon Powalski was at his most vulnerable, Celestra whispered something that he would never forget.

"I'm so sorry, Leon. I really, truly am."

The sincerity in her face and in her voice was so genuine that Leon looked over at her in surprise; she was filthy and disheveled and injured, but the young mercenary had never seen anything so beautiful. The silence between them was not broken again, and in the gloom of the cell, they slept.

* * *

It was only an hour later, and the rogue helmsman in charge of the prison transport was fighting sleep at the controls. Everything was going according to plan; the two prisoners Merrik had wanted in captivity clearly weren't going anywhere, and space had been clear of non-rogues since their apprehension.

Or so he thought.

A tiny stealth ship glided up level with the prison transport, but an undetectable cloaking device kept it invisible to both radar screens and the naked eye. There were only two men inside: a heavily-trained, licensed KWEST escape pilot, and Jak Winchester.

Silently the pilot rolled his chair over to a computer system and started typing. And because the rogue helmsman was drowsy, he was at complete unawares when the communications to and from the ship were knocked offline. The KWEST pilot then moved back to the primary controls, took up the joysticks that maneuvered the craft's master cannons, and fired a single shot the destroyed the opposing ship's engines.

"Start the scan, and hurry," said Jak tensely, and he belted two adamantite magnums to his waist as he spoke. "Ready the boardin' hatch and let me know the moment ya find 'em."

The pilot glanced over his shoulder briefly; Jak was lining his belt now with extra clips for the magnums. There were at least ten. "You're sure you want to go in alone?"

Jak straightened and moved closer, watching the mother computer scan the rogue ship for Leon and Celestra's life forms. "It'll be a low body count; I can take anything they have to throw at me. Erik and Slippy left me in charge, and they'd want me to take care o' these traitors."

"Got them." The helmsman shifted closer to the screen and pointed; a pair of flashing red dots were displayed on a perfect schematic of the ship. "Vitals are stable; they're unconscious, but it looks like they're alone. I'm only picking up about ten more life forms - nothing you can't handle, Mr. Winchester. I'm bringing the ship into position, and I'll attach the electrical boarding tube over the primary entrance."

"Nuthin' I can't handle," Jak finished, and with a salute to his pilot he marched away toward the boarding hatch, combat boots clunking with every step. When he arrived at the entrance he found the tube already attached; twin magnums in hand, he booted open the door and leaned around the frame. The corridor was completely quiet and vacant, but he knew not all of them would be, and with this knowledge he snuck stealthily toward the prison cell near the back with his guns cocked and ready.

"Hey! You! Freeze!"

Jak turned immediately, shrinking toward the nearest wall and cocking both high-charged weapons in a complete, fluid motion. Behind him stood two rogues, one a slender antelope, the other a rather overweight bear; both were fumbling for guns belted near their hips. But the logistics expert at KWEST was far quicker; two consecutive shots burned holes in the antelope's stomach and dropped him almost instantly, and by the time the bear had snatched up a firearm Jak was already standing straight and sighting down the barrel for his adversary's head. The rogue lanced away a single shot that Jak dodged easily, and then he was dead. Jak turned and sprinted away, and behind him echoed the sounds of a slightly bigger pursuit. Although he was running away, he was hardly concerned for the circumstances - there were only a handful of rogues aboard the prison transport, and he doubted any of them could match his marksmanship.

He turned another corner and nearly ran into the door to the prison cell. The heavy padlock hardly daunted Jak Winchester - one shot from an adamantite magnum left it melted and steaming on the floor, and he booted the door in. In the shadows of the grimy cell, Celestra Marquette raised her head wearily. "...Jak? Is that you? How did you find us?"

Jak stepped closer and blasted her bonds cleanly off; she slumped against him, very glad the strain was gone from her shoulders. "I've been watchin' the galaxy grids since Erik and Slippy left; it looked mighty durn suspicious when rogue ships fired on another rogue ship and boarded it. And when Slip called to say that he, Erik, Wolf, and Doc Morray saved the new gen'ral before Katina fell - "

"What?!" Celestra was hardly surprised at the news that the rogues had taken Katina; the news that the rest of her friends had not been killed in the destruction of the Cornerian Army Base had caught her completely off guard, and given her back a measure of hope. "They're all alive?!"

"Yep; even Anilora." Jak melted the restraints binding a still-unconscious Leon; the lithe mercenary fell into his arms, and the weapons master hoisted him up over his shoulder. "But there's still rogues around, so we gotta - "

The door banged open and three rogues leapt in; Celestra dove to the stone floor, retrieved Jak's magnums, and came up in a defensive crouch with both guns firing. Jak dropped Leon behind him so he wouldn't be caught in the crossfire, but it hardly mattered; in the hands of master assassin Celestra Marquette, the adamantite magnums mowed all three of them down as easily as if they were toothpicks. She rose back up to her feet and looked over her shoulder at Jak, and it seemed to him that, despite the soreness and fatigue, Celestra was perfectly capable of getting them out unharmed. Jak hefted Leon up again, and moving for the rusted steel door, Celestra led the way out.

There was another rogue waiting to waylay them around the first junction; the female assassin dipped low beneath his opening shot and felled him with a pair of energy bullets to the intestinal area. Another accosted them further down the corridor - she laid him low before he could level his weapon. They sprinted the rest of the distance to the entrance hatch and passed through the tube bridging both transports prematurely together; the KWEST pilot was waiting for them at the helm, and when they arrived he sealed off their exit hatch and disengaged the electrical tube. "It's good to see you up, alert, and killing rogues, Miss Marquette."

Celestra smiled wryly. "All in a day's work. And Jak - I like these guns." She ended by holding out the magnums toward him.

"Nah, you keep 'em." Jak draped Leon carefully into the co-captain's chair before turning to face her. "Them's the new adamantite magnums - I've got a dozen o' them that I'm workin' on yet. They's lots better than yet plasma pistols." The Katinan logistics expert looked down at the prone Leon. "Hey - is he gonna be okay?"

The memories of the tale of Leon's horrific past rushed back up to meet her; tensely Celestra gritted out, "He just needs to rest."

Jak knew when not to ask questions; he signaled to his pilot, and they sank back into the atmosphere and made for KWEST.

* * *

Celestra gazed, horrified and transfixed, at the many infrared grids depicting Loyalist and rogue presence throughout Lylat. It looked as though Merrick's hostile takeover was almost complete; Nexxus, at least, was under complete rogue control, and the Amber Spire built many years ago to commemorate the completion of Katina's proud capitol was no longer standing. Corneria City was suffering its second siege already; the ragtag Cornerian Army could not hold back the usurpers, but a victorious Zonessian fleet, led by Arspace Division Three head technician Katt Monroe, had arrived to defend an ailing Arspace Division One. Fortunan capitol Titus had fallen, but sister city Daxter, defended by Arspace Division Four, had not. Aquas, thus far safe from battles upon her surface, had launched its fleet, which was nearing the defense of Daxter and would sweep around to reclaim Titus when Daxter was secured. Worst of all, Macbeth was completely under rogue control; presence there was dangerously high, and its small fleet had long since been eliminated.

That left K'yorin, capitol of the Lylat System's most powerful planet, crown jewel of the galaxy.

"I don't get it," said Jak Winchester, gazing hard at the wreckage of Nexxus with hate in his eyes. "Why hasn't Merrick set the rogues on K'yorin yet? If the capitol falls, it'll be easy for 'im to take all 'o Corneria."

Celestra was asking herself that same question. She was clean and more alert now; though still heavily exhausted, she knew there was little time for her to rest. It had been an hour since Jak had liberated them from the rogue prison transport, and Leon had yet to awaken. Arms crossed, tapping one boot loudly to display her heightened nerves, she began to voice an explanation. "Merrick has been planning this for years - he won't make a move for K'yorin until he can be absolutely sure any unexpected opposition that may arrive won't be enough to stop him. During the second Lylat War, Katina was Corneria's greatest ally - that's why Merrick attacked them hard at the start. With every other fleet either disorganized or occupied, all Merrick needs to do is set up camp, entrench himself well enough so that he can't be supplanted, gather his full strength, and attack. It's only a matter of time."

"But..." Jak was looking very ill. "But... if K'yorin falls..."

"Lylat falls," Celestra finished grimly, "and they win."

The silence pressed in heavily around the pair of them as they pondered the implications of her last statement. Jak swallowed hard and shook his head in fierce denial. "What'll it take? What do we need?"

The female assassin took a moment to gather her thoughts. "More than we have. Above all else we need General Pepper to be alive to organize the entire Cornerian fleet - or what's left of it. We need to rattle Merrick out of his comfort zone." She ran a weary hand through her hair before tying it back away from her face and finishing, "We need to take back Katina."

"But Gen'ral Anilora already issued the retreat!"

"Exactly, or he will soon. What I'm saying is that it would take thousands of men... an army that not even Merrick would expect, or be able to fight back..."

Suddenly, for seemingly no reason at all, Jak started pacing quickly all around Erik and Slippy's office; as Celestra watched, perfectly puzzled, he twisted his hands worriedly and stared fixedly at the ground. The pace was reaching a maddening crescendo when he stopped and turned to her at last, anxious and fearful.

"I got somethin' to tell ya," he muttered gruffly, looking very guilty indeed.

Celestra sat on the edge of Erik's desk, taking in Jak's suddenly rigid posture and the pleading look in his eyes. In her time at KWEST, the assassin had correctly perceived him as an easy-going, logical, down-to-earth man - to see him so suddenly and obviously unhinged was something Celestra was quite unused to. But it was something she supposed needed addressing, so quietly and gently she pressed - "What is it, Jak?"

He erupted into a quick and obviously long bottled-up monologue, Katinan accept making certain phrases difficult for Celestra to follow. "Years ago the Metgiacon empire had its own army; they kept it all under wraps, y'know, quiet-like, but eventually Gen'ral Pepper got wind o' it and shut the whole program down. He said it was the army, or the lot of 'em! And they didn't wanna lose their jobs, so they canned the project... now, Erik and Slippy been real good about keepin' to protocol, and everyone knows that KWEST is a big success, but one day I caught 'em talkin' about buildin' their own army and I says "Ya remember what happened at Metgiacon, don'tcha?", but they didn't listen - "

"Jak!" Celestra burst in, mind reeling unintelligibly. "I don't understand what you're trying to say. What's the point of all this?"

"The point," said Jak, looking harrassed, "Is that they did it anyway, and KWEST... has its own army."

Celestra's hand slipped, effectively knocking a teetering stack of official-looking documents off Erik's desk and scattering them all across the floor. Jak winced. "You... you're not serious?! Erik and Slippy raised a secret army? Right under Pepper's nose?"

"Yeah." Jak heaved an enormous sigh. "And they wasn't proud of it, but they didn't wanna take no chances just 'cause Andross is gone... they thought they was doin' right."

Celestra looked numbly back at him, eyes fell of new possibilities, and said slowly, "And they were." Then it was her turn to pace feverishly back and forth across the large office, and the words came in a frantic rush. "Issue the order for the KWEST army to assemble and move for Katina. We can take back Nexxus tonight - Merrick won't know we're there until we're opening fire on his entire fleet."

Jak lost all composure. "But - it's illegal! Even for a tech enterprise to have an army at all is against the law, but sendin' 'em into battle..."

Celestra crossed the floor in long, hurried strides, grasping the logistics expert firmly by the shoulders and shaking him none-too-gently. "Pull yourself together! The only reason Pepper enforced that law is because it wasn't during a time of crisis! Anilora's been general for half a day - he's completely overwhelmed, and has probably just been drived away from Katina. We need every man, Jak! If you do this, you'll be a hero. We need you."

The weapons master, reassured and thoroughly convinced, nodded once firmly and grinned forcibly in thanks.

The order for the KWEST army to rise and prepare for battle went out only minutes later. Celestra had expected a few hundred men at best - she could hardly believe her eyes when no fewer than six thousand experienced pilots, soldiers, and sellswords answered the call to arms in a matter of half an hour. A cacophony of ships, heavily-armed cruisers, stealth jets, warships, and all other manner of spacecraft jettisoned from KWEST Enterprise in the dead of night, all with the same untraceable cloaking device that rendered them invisible. And like a massive cloud of unseen ghosts, the army that no one knew existed made for not-so-distant Katina, lust for the fight shooting through their veins and vengeance in their eyes.

* * *

In the near darkness of Leon's room, Celestra sat at the unconscious mercenary's bedside, gazing down at his troubled face with sympathy. He had not woken once in hours - not even when she and Jak had moved him into his new private quarters aboard grand KWEST flagship Rhapsody in Steel - and she wondered briefly if he would participate in the upcoming battle at all.

It didn't matteer, she supposed - with traumas long sublimated suddenly at the surface, Leon would do all he could until he had mastered his feelings again. No one could ask more of him than that.

Celestra pulled a blanket over him, and extending a trembling, tentative hand, gently carressed his cheek and forehead with her fingertips, surprised at the tender, almost intimate contact. Leon would probably have killed her, had he been awake for it.

She found she didn't care at all.

What was to come for Leon Powalski would come, and as always, he would rise to meet it, to grapple with it, to overcome it. And Celestra Marquette would be there.

Silently she rose, and left him to sleep.

* * *

Celestra joined Jak Winchester on the bridge of Rhapsody in Steel and gazed out upon black-and-white hyperspace between Corneria and Katina. They would likely arrive in Katinan airspace in another hour yet, provided they were not held up by any unexpected mishaps. And as no one was aware of their very existence, mishaps were highly unlikely.

"Are we doin' right, Celestra?" asked Jak again, and she smiled widely.

"Yes, Jak. We are doing right today, we will tomorrow, and we will every day thereafter."

It was to be the last time he asked; all doubts dispelled at last, Jak Winchester stepped up to the helm and began issuing orders.

Celestra grinned again to herself. She knew only one thing, and it was really the only knowledge she needed.

Katinan was theirs. And they wanted it back.


End file.
